


The Tutor

by Tonicon1231



Series: From Babysitter to Boyfriend [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Erik Being Cocky, Erik Being Immature, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is 20 years old, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel), T'Challa Being Confused, T'Challa has feelings, T'Challa is 25 years old, T'Challa playing hard to get, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonicon1231/pseuds/Tonicon1231
Summary: T’Challa wasn’t sure what to think about this new adult version of Erik-- bulging muscles, deep voice and all. T’Challa babysat Erik when he was only a child, making him feel a bit conflicted about these feelings that were developing, now that he was older.Sequel to 'The Babysitter'
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/T'Challa
Series: From Babysitter to Boyfriend [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602958
Comments: 86
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

T’Challa really wanted to go back to his own apartment at the moment. Too bad he already promised his mama that he’d help her cook for a dinner party she’s hosting. _Again._ This was the only time she didn’t hire people to do stuff for her; no, his mother liked to be complimented on her homemade cooking that she dutifully taught T’Challa since he was a child. As grateful as he was, he despised the hours it took to prepare dinner, depending on how many guests’ she invited. Usually, it was more than ten and lamentably, T’Challa suffered. What he could appreciate during these times was getting to talk to his mama about anything and everything and yet, he was still surprised when she brought up one person in particular.

“Erik?” T’Challa questioned his mother as he began slicing the carrots on the cutting board. 

“Yes, don’t you remember him?”

_How could he forget? That was the best babysitting job he’s ever had._

“Yes, I remember. What about him?”

“Well, his mother contacted me saying he’s on summer break from college. Can you believe it? He’s already a man.”

T’Challa paused, doing a quick calculation from his current age to back then, coming to the conclusion that it had seven years. _He hadn’t seen Erik in seven long years._ Erik must have been twenty years old by now.

“Yes he is, isn’t he.” T’Challa continued swiftly chopping the carrots. “What did you and his mom talk about?” 

“Well, we caught up a bit. You know we don't see each other as much because she travels out of town a lot for her job.” Ramonda sighed. 

“Mm, I remember,” T'Challa recalled that Ms. Steven's and his mom went to the same college and were close friends. When they can, they hang out sometimes but then life gets in the way.

Well, right now she’s in New Jersey for the whole summer leaving Erik all alone again.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Erik is old enough to watch himself now, mama.”

“I’m just teasing, darling.” She laughed, pulling something out of the oven. “Actually she told me that Erik wanted to learn, Xhosa.” His mother spoke proudly. 

T’Challa finished chopping the carrots and thought, _Erik never mentioned wanting to learn Xhosa before._ “That’s great, mama. I’m sure he’ll be good at it.”

“The boy wants to learn Xhosa, dear.” She cheered. “I’m sorry T’Challa but I got very excited and told her that you’d come by tomorrow.”

“Mama,” T’Challa whined and set the knife down on the cutting board with an afflicted look. “I told you to stop making plans for me. What if I was busy tomorrow?”

“Oh, enough, T’Challa. This is the one summer where you’re actually free.” 

"Just because I'm not going into the office does not mean I still don't have to work.” He sighed. "I work from home, you know this."

“I already told her that you would do it.” She scolded lightly. “I’m sure Erik would be highly disappointed if you suddenly changed your mind.”

“How can I suddenly change my mind, when you didn’t even give me a choice in the matter?” 

“Please, T’Challa?” She said, now facing her son. T’Challa almost rolled his eyes again out of sheer displeasure and he really wanted to disagree but he’d rather tutor Erik than hear his mom fuss for the rest of the summer.

“Fine.” He sighed while tossing the carrots into an empty bowl. “What time tomorrow?” 

“I knew you’d be up for it darling.” She went over to kiss his cheek. “His mom sent me Erik’s number so you two can work out a time. One sec and I’ll send it to you.”

T’Challa heard his phone beep as he moved on to slicing the green onions. “I’ll text him later then.”

“This is so exciting.” His mom cheered. “I’m always happy to see people wanting to learn our language.”

“I agree, mama. But I wouldn’t really call myself a tutor.”

She patted his back. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you and Erik will figure something out.”

T’Challa sighed internally. He was happy his mama thought highly of him but she should have really thought about this. Now T’Challa would have to gather the right materials to make it easier for Erik to learn. Hopefully, it worked out.

“Let us finish cooking, dear. The guest will arrive in three hours.”

T’Challa huffed and started chopping faster. Eventually, he was going to have to tell his mama that he couldn’t help her every single time she had a dinner party-- no matter how much he liked to cook.

***

T’Challa settled down for the night in his old bedroom, with a book and some hot ginger tea. He was halfway through the chapter before he decided it was best to text Erik now before he randomly fell asleep like he usually did.

[T] _\--- Hey, Erik. This is T’Challa, long time no see. Your mom gave me your number._

T’Challa set his phone down and went back to reading his book. Just then, his phone beeped. He didn't expect to get a response so fast.

[E] _\--- Hey! It has been a while, hasn’t it, how’ve u been?_

Since Erik responded fast, T’Challa thought it was best to do so as well.

[T] _\--- I’m doing well. I can see that you are too. My mama tells me you go to MIT._

[E] _\--- That’s nothin new, i’m smart as hell, but u already you knew that_

T’Challa laughed. Erik was still the same; a little arrogant and a little cheeky. 

[T] _\--- Lol! Then I guess you won’t have a hard time learning Xhosa then?_

[E] _\--- I’ll be fluent by the end of the summer_ 😉

T’Challa scoffed as he turned over onto his side. Now Erik was getting a little too cocky. There was _no way_ he was going to be fluent in just three months. He would need two years at the least.

[T] _\--- Nice try, but I’m sure it’ll take longer than that._

[E] _\--- Wanna bet?_

T’Challa didn’t have to think long. He kind of liked where this was going.

[T] _\--- Bet what?_

**_Typing…_ **

**_Typing…_ **

**_Typing…_ **

T’Challa scrolled through Instagram while he waited for Erik to finish typing. _What could Erik possibly be thinking?_ He hoped it was nothing impossible or embarrassing. If so, T’Challa wouldn’t do it. With that thought in mind, his phone beeped and he clicked back on the messaging app.

[E] _\--- How about I wait and tell u at the end of the summer? Don’t worry it’s nothin bad, if u don’t like it u don’t have to do it. Deal?_

T’Challa exhaled lightly and considered Erik’s terms. Obviously, Erik wasn’t going to be fluent by the end of this summer. It was impossible. But T’Challa decided he was going to play along anyway.

[T] _\--- Deal! We can start tomorrow. What time did you want me to come by?_

[E] _\--- U can come by at 2, i know how u hate waking up early_

T’Challa raised a brow at that. Erik had remembered his hatred for mornings. Granted, he did complain every morning he woke Erik up to get ready for school.

[T] _\--- 2 sounds fine. You remembered._

[E] _\---Trust me, i remember a lot of things about u._

T’Challa felt that Erik was implying something else but he didn’t know what.

[T] _\--- Mind telling me what else you remember?_

[E] _\--- We can catch up on all that tomorrow, gn_

T’Challa chuckled and put his phone to the side after saying goodnight. He honestly couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He only hoped that Erik was still that cute little kid from the past but he knew that was a far-fetched idea. 

***

_It was a very far fetched idea._

T’Challa found himself faced with a bare chest and flexing muscles; passively, as he was caught under the impression that Erik had _actually_ grown-up. With his lips slightly parted and breath trapped at the back of his throat, T'Challa let his eyes roam over the man’s abs because he didn’t know where to look or how to look away.

“T’Challa.”

T’Challa looked up. Erik was taller than him now by a few inches, his locks were styled differently and he was so… _so very ripped._ T’Challa’s heart thumped as he watched Erik lean a burly arm against the rim of the door. Said man yawned with a simplistic vaunt enough to make any girl swoon-- T’Challa was no less affected either. The only thing that seemed to have remained the same was that lopsided smirk of his.

“It’s been a while.” 

T’Challa gasped quietly, grimacing when Erik pulled him into a bear hug. He made a sheepish noise, not sure where to put his hands. T’Challa decided it would be even more awkward if he didn’t hug him back so he wrapped his arms around Erik’s middle. This brought him closer to Erik’s jutting shoulder, where his breath ghosted just beside the man’s jugular. Being so close, T’Challa caught a whiff of Erik’s current scent. It was husky, doused with a little spice all of which… _T’Challa was attracted to._

“Man, I missed you,” Erik said, pulling back with an unyielding gaze. He gave T'Challa an evident once over before pulling him into a hug once more. “You’re still looking good too.” 

T’Challa finally found his voice and huffed a laugh. He shifted backward, looking at the way Erik’s eyes lingered before speaking. “Um, thank you. Y-you, look good as well.”

Erik grinned, his teeth now on display. “I know.” 

T’Challa caught a glint of something gold as he looked directly at Erik's pearly whites. _Gold teeth?_

“I’m glad you agreed to do this.” Erik’s smile widened. 

_Yes, those were gold teeth._

“I was afraid you’d be busy with work.” T’Challa looked into Erik’s prying eyes and shook his head.

“No, not really.” T’Challa felt the arms around his waist tighten, bringing light to the fact that he was still in Erik’s arms. He placed his hands on Erik’s chest, hesitating to move away from the chiseled warmth but reluctantly pushed back anyway. There was a little resistance when he tried to move back but eventually, T’Challa got the message across. “I’m not that busy. I work from home especially since Baba’s main office is being remodeled as of right now.” T’Challa smiled, hoping to play it off a bit.

“Oh yeah? I almost forgot your old man owned a company.” Erik said, motioning for T’Challa to follow him inside. 

After taking a deep breath, T’Challa followed, closing the door behind him. Once inside, he observed the familiar surroundings of the two-story house. Not much had changed. Only a few new decorations here and there and rearranged furniture but besides that, everything was the same.

_Not everything…_

T’Challa found his eyes glancing up and down Erik’s back muscles. They moved feebly and languidly about as he walked toward the fridge. 

“Must be nice having a rich dad, huh?”

“Well, it’s not what you think. I still had to graduate from college and work as an intern.” His Baba wouldn’t let him have the job that easily. Plus, T’Challa still has to work his way up.

Erik hummed in response as he opened the fridge. “Want something to drink?” 

“Yes, that sounds good.” T’Challa was sure he sounded awkward. He felt awkward-- shy even. _Why? It was just Erik, the same little boy he babysat seven years ago._ Who cared if he now carried a fine set of massive muscles, a well-kept beard, or a voice that bore a deep baritone timbre. None of that should have mattered and yet, it did. T’Challa was _dead set_ focused on all of those things.

“We got, Coke, apple juice, Vodka…”

“Anything but Vodka.”

“What? You don’t like the taste?”

“That and it’s the middle of the afternoon.” T’Challa mused, feeling a bit more comfortable.

Erik shrugged placing a coke can on the island countertop, “Morning, noon, night--they’re all the same to me.”

T’Challa snorted and grabbed the soda can, “What would you know about, alcohol, Erik? You’re only twenty.”

Erik squared his chest, seeming peeved by T’Challa’s comment. “You know what college students do when they leave home, right?”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“You're telling me that you didn’t drink until you were legal?”

T’Challa popped open the soda can with a grin. “I did not.”

Erik smirked as he opened his own coke can. “Ah, so you were a prissy.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes. “As much as I dislike being called that, I guess you’re right.”

Erik’s chuckle sent a small shiver through T’Challa’s body. His voice was just so attractively deep. That and-- T’Challa bit his lip watching as Erik drank his soda, tipping his head back in the process-- his adam's apple bobbing up and down. T’Challa quickly averted his eyes from the appealing sight, wanting nothing more than to push these thoughts away.

“You know,” Erik started, forcing T’Challa to return his gaze, “You really haven’t changed a bit, kitten.”

T’Challa paused, loosening his grip on the cool can of soda. “W-what did you just call me?”

“Ah, shit.” Erik scratched the back of his head, with a coy smile. “I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t even know why I said that.”

T’Challa narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure? It seemed quite… comfortable sounding.” 

_Extremely comfortable._

“Yeah, well you see it’s kinda… a little nickname I came up with. You know, back in the day.”

T’Challa simpered. “A nickname?” He didn’t remember Erik ever calling him that when he was a kid. Maybe he did and T’Challa just missed it?

“Yeah, listen let’s just forget about it, alright?”

As perplexed as T’Challa was, he relented, not sure if he really wanted to know anyway. “Okay, I’ll forget about it then.”

_For now._

“We should get started.” Erik trudged across the kitchen. “I don’t want to risk losing our bet.”

“We’ll see about that.” T’Challa jeered, still doubting Erik’s goal but he would play along for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik was a remarkably fast learner. He picked up the basics of Xhosa’s sentence structures in only three weeks. T’Challa was impressed by his intelligence even though he shouldn’t be shocked. As a kid, Erik was well rounded. T’Challa remembered offering to help with his homework, but Erik never needed it-- that or he'd already finished it before he got home. He excelled in all subjects that’s why T’Challa wasn’t surprised when he found out Erik attended MIT. Still, even with his high prestige, Erik failed at pronunciation. 

“It’s pronounced, Ngu--ba--ni”

“Ngubani?” 

T’Challa nodded, “Mhm, then iga--ma lak--ho.”

“Igoma lokho.” Erik said without any accent whatsoever.

T’Challa cringed at the noise hitting his ears. It sounded so purposely wrong that he began to suspect Erik for playing around. 

“Are you even trying, Erik?”

“I am, I am.” He said, giving the tutor a lazy nod.

T’Challa pushed his shoulder playfully, “Stop lying, I know you’re not.”

Erik laughed. “I am though. It’s just hard.”

“Really Erik? There’s not even a clicking constant in this one.” 

Erik groaned. “Shit, don’t even get me started on that.”

T’Challa chuckled, watching Erik lay his head on the desk. “It’s not that hard once you get used to it.”

A skeptical line appeared between his brows. “I highly doubt that.”

“Trust me, it will.” T'Challa tapped the book on the desk in front of them. “Now let’s try this sentence.” He started reading out loud.

Erik attempted it twice, finally getting it right the third time then they moved on. Throughout the session, T’Challa noticed how Erik would stare at his lips, notably when he was speaking in Xhosa. He never looked away, not even when T’Challa looked down at the book on the table. From his peripheral T’Challa could see Erik rub his chin, not once blinking. T’Challa moved, placing his elbow on the table and covered his mouth with his hand.

It wasn’t as if he felt self-conscious, no, he just didn’t know what to think about the situation. Especially when that wasn’t the only thing to worry about. T’Challa found out early on that Erik was rather touchy; very much so. Whenever T’Challa least expected it, Erik would bump his shoulder or brush his hand upon an exchange and let it linger. On a few occasions, Erik would lean in close and rest his hand in the space between T’Challa and the back chair, claiming he couldn't see the textbook.

It was undeniable that Erik’s touches were almost questionable and yet somehow pleasant at the same time. T’Challa should have had a problem-- _he really should've_ \-- but he didn't.

“Can you say it again?” Erik asked T’Challa to repeat the long sentence.

T’Challa sighed. “Again, Erik?” 

“Please?”

“Okay.” As reluctant as he was T’Challa did as Erik said, repeating the long sentence a little slower this time. Erik watched his lips with hooded eyes just as T’Challa decided to moisten them with his tongue.

T’Challa looked up when he was done, catching Erik’s stare. He smiled before saying, “You think you can say it now?”

“Yeah,” Erik repeated the sentence while peeking at the book below him. But as soon as he was done, he was looking at T’Challa again.

“What is it?” T'Challa finally asked with a timid laugh.

“Nothing much it’s just…” T’Challa watched Erik look away and drum his fingers on the desk. It was more like a nervous tick than anything since he only ever did it when he was caught staring.

“Just?” T’Challa urged, growing extremely curious.

“You really haven’t changed.” Erik ceased tapping the table and observed T’Challa once more. “I mean you look hella good.”

“Um, thank you?” T’Challa let out a breathy laugh. “Erik, I’m only twenty-five. I doubt I’d look that different.”

“I can’t imagine what you’d look like if you were like forty or fifty.” He scoffed with a smile. “Nah, it definitely wouldn’t work out then.”

“What wouldn’t work out?” _What was Erik getting at?_

Erik looked back at the notebook. “It’s nothing.”

“Erik, seriously tell me? You’re acting very strange.”

“I mean--” Erik sat back with a sheepish look. “What do you think about dating a guy younger than you?”

“Younger?” T’Challa raised a brow. “Well, I prefer guys who are older. Maybe one year or two years younger is okay.”

“Really?”

“What? You asked me what I thought.” T’Challa shrugged with a small smile. “We all have our preferences.” T’Challa noticed Erik’s shoulders slump before he looked over at him. He seemed to be searching T’Challa’s eyes for something and when he found it, a smirk appeared on his face.

“You know what I think?” Erik asked.

“What?”

“I think you should start aiming lower.”

T’Challa burst out laughing at how ridiculous that sounded. “Oh, Erik you’re very funny. Imagine me dating someone right out of highschool, or maybe your age. I mean, they’ve barely even started their life yet.”

“Ouch,” Erik replied with a hiss. “You still think I’m a kid?”

“Well, no it’s just that we’re moving forward at different times in our lives. You understand what I’m saying?”

“...Yeah. I get what you mean.” Erik narrowed his eyes, that smirk of his not faltering one bit. “I think there is a limit. Trust me, I don’t want to date someone almost twenty years older than me.

T’Challa agreed with a nod.

“Then again,” Erik continued, “If there was an age difference, it feels like they’re sorta trading in different currencies… but each holds its own value.”

***

T’Challa thought about his and Erik’s conversation that night when he got home. It was strange because ever since he met Erik again, T’Challa had been questioning the same thing. There was no doubt in T’Challa’s mind that he was attracted to the young man but just not in _that_ way. He found him nice to look at, adorning all those childish features he used to have. He admired his intelligence and humor with all the same feelings from the time he babysat him. _Wait… no, that wasn’t right_ . He could now picture Erik as more of a _friend_ than just a child he looked after. A friend who was caring and had a… nice body, a deep voice, and a charming smile….

T’Challa was pulled from his thoughts when his phone rang. 

**Nakia would like to FaceTime...**

T’Challa turned onto his side and answered.

“Hey, Nakia.”

“ _Were you asleep?_ ”

“No, I was just thinking.”

“ _You sound like Okoye right now. Speaking of her, she and W’Kabi broke up again._ ”

“How many times has it been?” T’Challa shook his head, not entirely surprised. They never stayed together long.

“ _I think this is the sixth time, right?_ ” She frowned in confusion and T’Challa nodded.

“I believe so.”

“ _Bast, they need to just break up for good._ _I think they just like the sex. I heard from Ayo that it sounds very animalistic_.”

T’Challa laughed loudly. “Poor Ayo. Why is she still living there?”

“ _I think she’s trying to move out next month. After being roommates with Okoye for years, I can understand why_.”

“Well, I hope she finds a place far away.”

“ _You and me both, T_ .” Nakia set her phone on what looked like a desk and started doing something on her laptop. “ _So how’s that boy?_ ”

“Who are you talking about?”

 _“The one you tutor? The one you said you wanted to fuck you?_ ”

T’Challa quickly sat up. “Bast! Nakia, I did not say that.”

She shrugged, not looking at T’Challa. “ _I mean... I would definitely let him.”_

“You haven’t even seen what he looks like.”

 _“I checked out his Instagram last night. You said his name was Erik Stevens right?”_ She looked into the camera. _“He’s cute.”_

“He’s twenty.”

_“So?”_

“I babysat him as a child,” He said, urging her to understand. “When he was only thirteen!?”

_“...And?”_

“How can you not see anything wrong with that?”

_“He’s practically a grown man now, T’Challa. What’s the big deal?”_

T’Challa sighed, flopping back down on the bed. “It’s just… weird. I mean every time I look at him, I keep comparing him to his child-self.”

 _“That’s easy to solve.”_ She looked back at her computer. _“Just stop.”_

T’Challa huffed tiredly, “What happened to the old Nakia? You used to be so reserved.”

_“You and I both know that college did wonders to my personality.”_

“Yes, unfortunately.” T’Challa joked. “Anyway, I have to wake up early tomorrow so goodnight.”

_“Goodnight, T.”_

T’Challa dropped his phone on the bed and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t a matter of age to T’Challa. He would probably date someone Erik’s age if they were that much in love. But for some reason, T’Challa keeps imagining Erik as that guy. T’Challa babysat him when he was only thirteen, he practically watched him grow up. It wouldn’t be right to date in that sort of situation. _Would it?_

***

T’Challa only tutored Erik during the weekdays like a part-time job except he wasn’t getting paid for it. Erik’s mom did offer to pay him but T’Challa was truly tutoring Erik out of the kindness of his heart. He loved helping people out and for this reason, whenever he was free, he would volunteer. Nakia was the one who got him interested in volunteer work in the first place which is why that morning, T’Challa found himself at one of the Global Paint for Charity volunteer events.

T’Challa put on a large white t-shirt and baggy pants over his day clothes, watching as Nakia went above and beyond with her outfit.

“Goggles?” T’Challa said as soon as she snapped them on. “Really?”

She shrugged as she rolled up her sleeves, grabbing a pair of gloves from her purse. “Don’t say I’m doing too much.”

“You’re doing too much.” T’Challa retorted with a smile, shaking his head when Nakia offered him a pair of gloves. “We’re just painting walls. The paint will be easy to wash off too.”

“T’Challa, stop talking and put these on.” T’Challa looked down at the gloves and took them, despite not wanting to. 

“You better be glad I didn’t bring another pair of goggles,” Nakia added.

“Thank Bast you didn’t.” He chuckled as he put on the gloves. Nakia stalled her response and listened to the event organizer announce their plan for today. It was the standard routine -- outdoor home painting for residents that are physically and/or financially unable to paint the residence on their own.

“How much did your family donate this year,” Nakia asked without warning.

T’Challa sighed, slumping his shoulders. “Why do you always want to know?”

“Just because.” She grinned, joining the line of people handing out paintbrushes and buckets of paint.

“It was enough,” T’Challa said softly.

“That’s not a number.” 

“I’m not saying it out loud.” He lowered his voice. “They already think I’m a spoiled rich brat.”

Nakia side-eyed him, “You’re not?”

“Nakia,” T’Challa complained.

“I’m just kidding, T’Challa. Calm down. I don’t think anyone here thinks that.” 

T’Challa allowed himself to smile at that before they were assigned a part of the house to paint.

“T’Challa?” A bit staggered, T’Challa looked over at the owner of the voice and smiled brightly by instinct.

“Erik, hey,” T’Challa said, causing Nakia to swiftly turn her head. He could hear her gasp lightly next to his shoulder, most likely looking at Erik’s sleeveless shirt, showing off his strong arm’s glistening in the sunlight. And T’Challa couldn’t blame her, _he was looking at them too_. 

T’Challa eventually pried his eyes away from his muscles, trying to continue their conversation. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“As a college student, me neither.” Erik smiled, showing off those golden canines. "But I like to humble myself every once in a while and give back to the community.".

T'Challa smiled in agreeance. "That's a good mindset. I’m surprised I didn’t see you earlier when the event started.”

“Yeah, I was late.” He chuckled. “I just got here.”

 _“He’s even hotter in person,”_ Nakia whispered in T’Challa’s ear, causing him to clear his throat and shush her. Erik raised a brow and T’Challa smiled while waving her off. “Ignore her.”

Erik huffed a laugh, looking over T’Challa’s shoulder. “Your friend?”

“Yes, she’s--”

“I’m Nakia; T’Challa’s best friend.” She moved around T’Challa and shook Erik’s hand. 

Erik looked incredulous but that warm smile never left his handsome face. “Nice to meet you.” He looked back to T’Challa. “You volunteer on the regular too?”

“Yes, during my spare time. ” 

“That’s cool.” 

“I bet you’re surprised that I’m here.” T’Challa assumed as he followed Nakia’s lead, dipping his brush into the paint, leisurely painting the wall.

“Nah, not really.” Erik looked over, giving T’Challa his full attention. “I know you’re a good person. You’ve never really come off as a spoiled brat to me.”

T’Challa fidgeted with the brush in his hands feeling quite satisfied with his answer. Inevitably, he found himself smiling back at Erik, ignoring the slight flutter in his heart.

“See.” Nakia jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “I told you no one thinks that. Or maybe Erik just has a soft side for you.”

“Nakia.” T’Challa hissed. “I get it.”

“Well,” She continued. “Now you can tell me how much your family donated.”

T’Challa sighed as he went back to painting. “One-hundred thousand.” He said quickly.

Erik whistled. “Think y’all can buy me a Lambo?”

“Shut up.” T’Challa laughed, looking back towards Nakia. "Are you happy now?”

“Very much so.”

T’Challa slapped the paintbrush on the wall, corresponding with his retort. “Good.”

“...Did you just splash paint on me?” T’Challa looked over, seeing Erik wipe at the white smudge on his cheek. 

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” T’Challa looked around for a towel or just something to wipe off the paint. “It was an accident--” T’Challa went still, feeling something cool run down the back of his neck. He looked back, reaching up to touch his neck. _Paint_.

“My bad,” Erik shrugged with a smirk. “It was an accident.”

T’Challa scoffed, feeling a bit irritated but not enough to make him mad. He suddenly felt the urge to retaliate, something that was unbecoming and childish of him but Erik was practically taunting him with that appealing smirk of his. T’Challa gave in, moving his paintbrush in a way to flick paint Erik’s way. He somewhat gasped, watching the white splatter on Erik’s hair and down his forehead.

“You really wanna start this, kitten?”

“What did he just call you?” Nakia piped in, having moved back before Erik hit T’Challa the first time.

T’Challa tried to answer, but the sudden paint splattering on his face made him stop. “Erik!” He laughed, repaying the favor once again.

“We’re in public, you two.” Nakia scolded and was a little surprised to see T’Challa doing this. He was usually a bit straight-laced while Nakia was the extroverted one-- they were the perfect mix but this was… _unfamiliar_. Nakia moved further away from the two, glancing around to see if anyone was looking. Thankfully, they were the only three on this side of the house but Nakia was sure someone would come soon with how loud T’Challa was laughing. It was more like a giggle than anything, confirming Nakia’s suspicions about T’Challa’s attraction. He’s talked about Erik enough for it to be completely obvious.

“Ah! Wait, Erik!” T’Challa laughed loudly. “Put me down!” 

Nakia rolled her eyes at Erik lifting T’Challa slightly off the ground with his chest against T’Challa’s back. T’Challa flailed, attempting to move Erik’s arms away from around him but it was pointless. _Did T’Challa not see that boy's arms?_ His abs too, Nakia raised a brow as she spotted the hem of Erik’s shirt rolling up, sadly T’Challa’s voice distracted her. _They were being so damn childish_. Thankfully, the organizer came around the corner, softly asking them to quiet down and behave like the adults they were and should be. T’Challa and Erik apologized frantically for their behavior, receiving a stern nod from the old lady before she slowly walked away, eyeing them as she did.

“What did I tell you?” Nakia reprimanded, walking back over to paint the wall. “We’re in public, _volunteering,_ T’Challa.”

“I know, I know, Nakia."

"It's my bad too," Erik added, almost as if he were defending T'Challa.

"We’ll work now.” T’Challa huffed aversely, growing quiet, after wiping some of the paint off his face. 

_Well, growing quiet with her anyhow._ T'Challa continued talking to Erik-- more like whispering and snickering every once in a while. Nakia resisted the urge to comment and make fun, largely due to the fact that her friend was clearly happy with his presence. Even more so than he was with any other guy Nakia has seen him go out with. Nakia smiled, genuinely praying for T’Challa’s happiness. If only he wasn’t stubborn and oblivious because from what she could see, _Erik was interested in him too._


	3. Chapter 3

T’Challa watched Erik open the front door to his house, feeling a little disappointed that he wasn’t shirtless as he had been for the past three weeks.

“Hey, can we start in like five minutes?”

“Why, what’s happening?” T’Challa’s question was answered as soon as he walked into the living room, seeing an Anime show paused on the flat-screen Tv.

“Just five more minutes, I swear.” 

T’Challa couldn't help but give in after seeing Erik’s pleading stare. The look was a bit… nostalgic if he were being honest. With reminiscence alone guiding his thoughts, he nodded, accepting the invitation to sit down and join Erik. He wouldn’t say the show wasn’t eye-catching, given the flashy animation but that’s not all that distracted him.

Erik’s smile… T’Challa genuinely loved seeing it just as much as he loved being the cause of it. And he was--most of the time. Even when they weren’t talking about anything worth smiling for, Erik would brazenly grin. Especially now, when T’Challa naturally provided feedback on the show. T’Challa found that he rather enjoyed watching television with Erik-- he had ever since he was a kid. Except then, he could actually pay attention and keep his eyes on the screen. Currently, though, it was a complicated task.

“Why would he do that?” Erik commented and T’Challa quickly glanced at the Tv, suddenly wanting the man to speak again. Erik’s voice… It was smooth, tantalizing, and magnetic, compelling T’Challa to listen as he talked about another scene. But he wasn’t focusing on his words or even the television anymore, not while he was too busy looking at Erik’s lips.

“You heard me?” 

T’Challa blinked. “Come again?”

A grin slowly appeared on Erik’s face as he looked at T’Challa. “The show’s over. I asked were you ready to start?”

T’Challa cleared his throat, inattentively tapping his leg. “Yes, sorry.” He swiftly stood up, grabbing his bag full of study materials. “We can start.”

 _What was he doing just now? Staring at Erik?_ T’Challa sighed as he followed behind Erik up to his room. T’Challa needed to get ahold of himself. He’d already accepted the fact that he found Erik… attractive, but that was it. _That was all._

When they started studying, nothing much was different from the weeks prior. Erik still stared and T’Challa still acted oblivious to it all. He never once thought as to what Erik might be thinking in those times he gazed at him. He purposely tried not to. He deliberately separated that conversation about age from the fact that Erik was most likely talking about himself. T’Challa trod _so_ lightly, that he never considered Erik could have feelings for him. He pushed all that to the side and focused on doing his job as a tutor.

“May you repeat it?” Erik asked for the sixth time that day. T’Challa concluded that Erik was an auditory learner and that he wasn’t just using this as an excuse to hear him talk.

“Eli nene liza kubhatala yonke in to.” T’Challa said slowly while looking down at the book. He made sure to enunciate the parts where the tenses changed. When he was finished, he waited for Erik to repeat but nothing came. T’Challa didn’t look over when Erik leaned back against his chair; instead, he repeated the sentence, thinking that’s what Erik wanted.

“Damn… you sound so sexy right now.”

T’Challa stopped mid-sentence, spluttering a bit. _Did he hear him correctly?_

“W-what?”

“Sorry bout that,” A soft chuckle escaped Erik’s lips, making T’Challa feel on edge. “I just couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

T’Challa was speechless as his gaze snapped to Erik’s. _This boy didn’t look sorry at all._ T’Challa was baffled but that didn’t stop the heat from rising to his cheeks. “Um…”

Erik raised a brow, waiting for T’Challa’s reply. 

“I’m... not sure how to respond to… that.”

“I’d be alright with anything.” T’Challa had been so absorbed by the sound of Erik’s voice that he didn’t notice Erik had leaned closer. “Anything you say, kitten, is fine with me.”

T’Challa inhaled sharply upon realizing the situation. He’s aware of Erik’s watchful eye, studying him, waiting for him to reciprocate. T’Challa doesn’t miss Erik glancing at him up and down; actually, T’Challa rather enjoyed the attention but no-- this could not happen. T’Challa shifted in his seat, grabbed his books and closed them before standing up. 

“I- I think we should stop here for today.” He moved toward the door, curling his hand around the books with diffidence.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Erik asked with so much composure that T’Challa thought he was overthinking the situation.

“Yes-- tomorrow.” With that, he left the room and quickly made his way through the house and to his car. He swiftly slid inside and collapsed back on the seat, letting his thought’s run rampant.

“Bast.” T’Challa took deep breaths, attempting to sequence his thoughts. He’d been denying it for weeks and he hoped he would never have to face it but Erik was…

_Erik liked him..._

***

T’Challa didn’t want to see Erik after what was said yesterday but he couldn’t just abandon the man. Erik was still intent on learning Xhosa and he was doing a great job even if he was acting a little suggestively. So T’Challa gathered some confidence, took a deep breath and knocked on Erik’s door. It wasn’t Erik who answered though; it was a girl clad in jean shorts and a crop top. She seemed to pause, eyes widening just a bit before closing her expression, giving T’Challa a frosty look.

“Whoa, you look the same.” She said, pushing a long curl behind her ear, eyeing T’Challa up and down. “Guess what they say is true, that black don’t crack.”

“...Thank you,” T’Challa spoke slowly, not sure how to take this girl’s directness and familiarity.

“Come in.” She held open the door, letting him in. “Erik’s talking to his mom. I’m not sure how long that’s gonna take.”

“Thanks for letting me know and... have we met somewhere before?” T’Challa asked after she closed the door behind him.

“Yeah, I’m Linda. Remember me?”

“Oh, yes, I do. Erik’s friend. It’s nice to see you again.” T’Challa gave a smile, one that Linda didn’t return.

“Are you guys working in the kitchen?”

“No, in his room.”

“Oh, how nice.” She muttered, loud enough for T’Challa to hear. “Well, I guess you can wait up there then.” She told him as she walked into the kitchen. T’Challa gave her a look before excusing himself from her presence. 

T’Challa found Linda to be quite… _on edge,_ maybe even a little annoyed about something. He wondered if she and Erik got into a fight or was it something that he did? That couldn’t have been it because T’Challa just got here. Plus they haven’t seen one another in years. 

T’Challa decided to ignore it as he ascended the steps. He heard Erik’s muffled voice coming from downstairs somewhere so he must have been in the guestroom. T’Challa was a little glad that he would have more time to prepare himself before he saw Erik again. Once he sat down at the desk and pulled out the materials, he took multiple deep breaths, feeling a bit better after the fourth one. That is until Linda bursts through the door and plopped herself down on Erik’s bed. 

T’Challa’s back faced the bed, so even if he wanted to look over at her, it would be awkward. He decided it was best to just play with his cellphone for the time being.

“How old are you again?” Linda inquired after a while of silence.

He turned around. “Twenty-five.”

“Mmm...” Was all she said before going silent once more. 

Despite being nervous before, T’Challa was so happy when Erik walked through the door. The tension in the room dissolved instantly after he saw Erik smile.

“Sorry bout that, my mom was chewing my ear off about some bullshit.” He said to T’Challa before looking over at his bed. “Lin, I thought you left already?”

“You told me to answer the door when he got here.”

“Yeah, then leave. I gotta study.” T’Challa looked at Erik furrowing his brow. He’s never quite seen him annoyed before.

“What if I wanted to hear you practice?”

“Come on, Lin. I need to concentrate.”

With a sigh, Linda complied and gathered all her stuff. “See you later then.” She gave T’Challa one last look before walking out the door.

“I barely recognized her,” T’Challa said when Erik sat down next to him.

“Probably cause she dyed her hair.”

“Maybe that was it.” T’Challa seldom glanced at Erik, praying that nothing from yesterday as brought up. Luckily, Erik seemed to only want to work today. Still, T’Challa found that he couldn’t think about anything else except for yesterday.

“Is this good?”

T’Challa was yanked from his diffidence. “Huh?”

Erik tapped the pencil on the notebook. “Did I spell everything right?”

T’Challa briefly looked at the words, nodding indolently, letting his eyes roam over the paper before looking up. He found himself locking eyes with Erik, and for a moment, he was unable to break his stare. Erik’s expression was unreadable but they were both aware of the situation. Be that as it may, T’Challa was the first to look away, preoccupying himself by studying Erik’s writing once more. 

“Don’t forget the diacritic marks,” T’Challa said, his voice small, solely just to break the silence

“I thought you nodding before meant that I got it right?”

T’Challa bit his lip knowing full well that he wasn’t paying attention. “I must have missed it... sorry.”

“You’re still thinking about what I said yesterday, huh?” Erik’s mouth curved into a smile. “It’s got you all nervous and stuff.”

T’Challa’s mouth set in a hard line. “Erik, let’s just continue working.”

Erik moved, shutting the notebook and leaned forward. “I think we should talk about it now.”

“Erik--”

“Come on, kitten, let’s stop beating around the bush. We’re obviously feeling each other.”

“I’m... not.” T’Challa gripped his pants and let out a soft breath. “You are simply my student.” 

“I see how you look at me.” T’Challa glanced at Erik, seeing that cocky smirk. “I know what you like.”

T’Challa gulped as his stomach clenched with nervousness. This was not how he was expecting all of this to go down. Especially now, but what was he expecting? If Erik had been bold enough to call him... ‘sexy’ yesterday, then he would without a doubt have enough conviction to say it again.

“I’ve been patiently waiting… but I can’t anymore,” Erik continued.

Apprehension pulsed through T’Challa, for he was stuck in a corner with no escape. “You’re still just a--”

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Erik cut him off, moved forward and pulled T’Challa’s chair to face him. “I haven’t been one for a while now.” 

T’Challa blinked, not expecting Erik to be so forceful. Their long legs slotted between one another keeping them apart but Erik still had the means to move closer and touch him. T’Challa didn’t dare move when Erik gently ran a finger down his cheek--not while Erik’s lips were so close to his. 

  
“I… I took care of you as a child.” T’Challa continued to convince himself that this was wrong. “Isn’t this strange to you? I mean our age difference?”

“We’re only five years apart, kitten. That’s all.”

“That’s not all.” 

“That _is_ all. You act like I just turned eighteen or something.” Erik scoffed while looking at T’Challa in the eyes. “I want you. _I’ve always wanted you._ ”

T’Challa’s heart pounded against his chest. “Bast, have mercy,” He said in Xhosa. After everything, _please, please_ don’t tell him that Erik has liked him ever since he was a kid. If so, then this was really bad.

That still didn’t stop Erik from tilting T’Challa’s chin when he did. T’Challa knew he should have pushed him off right then and there while he still had an ounce of sanity left. “No…” T’Challa mumbled, hands coming up to touch Erik’s chest just as he mashed their lips together. 

T’Challa whimpered after his breath was stolen away. Erik’s lips were soft and warm, sending a pleasant fondness to fool the mind into thinking that this was okay. With a slight pull at the waist, Erik was sliding a sinful tongue into T’Challa’s mouth. T’Challa shuddered as he squeezed his eyelids together, almost drowning in the kiss. He could tell this wasn't Erik’s first kiss, not by his assertiveness, but the fact that he practically dominated T’Challa’s mouth as his tongue moved gracefully over T’Challa’s and sucked it in.

Being so bewildered, T’Challa forgot to breathe through his nose, making a soft sound escaped his mouth before he pushed against Erik’s chest. They separated with a gasp, drool collecting at the corner of their lips.

T’Challa panted, feeling a bit dazed as Erik thumbed his bottom lip. “Well… that was worth the wait,” He smiled.

_Bast. So Erik did have a crush on him as a child and he’s liked him for all these years._

“Erik--” T’Challa attempted to say but was already in the midst of kissing him again. “Don’t--mm.” It was almost too perfect, how their lips latched together but Erik’s wandering hand on his thigh was another story altogether. 

The doorbell ran and both of them froze.

“Shit.” Erik mouthed against T’Challa’s lips before pulling away. “Who in the hell?” He stood up, giving the now aware T’Challa a means to escape. Similar to yesterday, he gathered his things and swiftly walked past Erik not making any promises to see him again. Erik called after T’Challa when he opened the front door and pushed past Linda, who was there.

“Fuck.” Erik cursed when he made it down the stairs. He looked at the door, seeing Linda and no T’Challa. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his dreads. “What the hell do you want, Lin?”

“I forgot my phone charger.”

“Of course you did.”

***

T’Challa sluggishly walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He was extremely drained of all energy and ready to go to bed just so he could block out the world. He planned on taking a hot shower then going right to sleep but something stopped him. He sighed loudly, gathering the strength to shout.

“Shuri, why are your clothes all over my floor?” He called as he stared at the mess.

“Sorry!” She said as she ran into the room. “I like your mirror better than mine. It’s bigger.” She bent down to pick up her scattered clothing.

“Just ask Baba to get another one installed.” T’Challa bent down to help her. 

“You know how he is about house repairs and stuff. It takes him ten years to do anything. Besides, you have your own place now so I took to using your room.” T’Challa nodded in understanding, knowing full well their Baba liked to procrastinate. 

“You can use mine, but don’t leave your stuff all over the floor, okay?”

“Okay, brother.” She smiled up at him. “Oh, I almost forgot that I knocked off some of the pictures on the dresser mirror.” She motioned toward the long dresser. “I think some of them fell behind it.”

T’Challa sighed. His room had been in shambles when he came home for the summer and now he knew why. “I’ll slide the dresser over and you pick up the pictures that went behind it, okay?” She easily agreed.

The dresser was huge but since the floors in his room were marble, it wasn’t that hard to pull away from the wall. Shuri grabbed the pictures and the sharp sound it made sliding against the ground when he pushed it back, was enough to make him cringe. 

Shuri stood up with the photos, looking at one in particular. “I’ve never seen this one before.” 

“Which one?” T’Challa muttered as he went to sit on his bed. Shuri followed and held up the one she was talking about. It was dusty as if it’d been behind the dresser for years but T’Challa knew what it was immediately. He grabbed the picture from his sister and blew off the dust just as she sat down next to him on the bed. 

“Is that me?” 

T’Challa nodded. “You were like four and wanted to be a princess for Halloween.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Not like I had a choice.”

“You’re the one who picked out the outfit.” T’Challa laughed, nudging his little sister playfully.

“That’s never happening again.” She assured him. “Who’s that?”

“That’s... Erik.” T’Challa looked at the thirteen-year-old with short dreads and a not so happy smile. It looked more like he was scared stiff with the way he stared wide-eyed into the camera.

“The one you’re tutoring now?” 

“Yes.”

“Mm,” She scratched her chin and studied the photo. “Why does he look a bit red here? Was he sick?”

T’Challa cocked his head, trying to remember what happened that day. “I’m not sure.” _T’Challa was definitely sure of it now… He was flustered._

“I wonder what he looks like now.”

T’Challa instantly pictured Erik shirtless, laughing with that deep voice of his. “He’s… he’s matured.” He answered, trying to will those thoughts away. “Anyway, you should go to bed now.”

“Now? But why?” Shuri whined.

“It’s getting late.” He patted down her messy curls. He didn’t know what the eleven-year-old did throughout the day for them to get that way but it always happened. “Go to bed.”

“Okay,” She obeyed with a pout before reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight brother.”

“Good night.” T’Challa watched as she grabbed her clothes before leaving the room. 

T’Challa fell back on the bed with the photo in his hand. He'd completely forgotten that he went to get this photo printed. He must have neglected to put it on the mirror and then it got pushed off somehow. 

T’Challa vividly remembered Erik’s thirteen-year-old self. He was lanky and short; unruly and confident. He was also sweet and caring, giving words of encouragement after his awful breakup. _That_ Erik was young and adorable and T’Challa always looked forward to entertaining him. Now, Erik was large and bulky; his voice was deep and charming. He was still unruly and confident but the way he presented it was different. _He was a man now_ ; a young man, but a man no less.

T’Challa closed his eyes and touched his lips. He could still feel Erik’s lips upon his even as he tried to actively forget it. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. The passion and eagerness that Erik put forth were hard to refuse. No matter how hard T’Challa tried to will himself to pull away, he couldn’t; he _physically_ couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the doorbell ringing, he probably wouldn’t have.

T’Challa groaned and threw the picture over his head, hearing it land on the floor. He shouldn’t be falling for Erik; the same kid he babysat seven years ago. Even if he wasn’t a child anymore, it just felt weird. Even so, T’Challa couldn’t help but mull over the many possibilities that could happen if he were to give in. 

Maybe... he should try. It's not like anything bad could happen if he did.


	4. Chapter 4

"Brother, why are you getting all dressed up?"

"I'm going on a date."

"A date? Why?"

T’Challa frowned questioningly. "Because I was asked out."

"By who?"

T’Challa chuckled, taking one last look in the mirror before facing his little sister. “You ask a lot of questions, Shuri.”

She shrugged. “I just want to know.”

“If you must know, it’s one of my co-workers.” The man had been vying to get his number since he started at his dad’s company. A new hiree named Andre who was two years older than him and was good looking as well. He contacted T’Challa two days ago and who was he to turn him down before getting to know him?

“Sounds nice.” She said before skipping out the door.

“And don’t tell mama!” He yelled, already knowing she wasn’t going to listen. If Shuri’s questioning was anything to go by, then his moms would be even worse. He’d just go back to his apartment tonight just in case.

T'Challa checked the time, knowing that Andre was going to show up soon. He glanced at the message icon still sitting at the top of his screen-- the one he received from Erik this morning-- and finally clicked on it.

[E]--- _ We still on for monday? _

T’Challa sighed, deciding it was best to text him back now, then later.

[T] _ \--- Can’t. It’s the 4th of July. The family is having a small get together. _

T’Challa took a deep breath, staring at his phone, watching as the word ‘read’ popped up below his message. Erik had yet to start typing when Andre texted him, saying he was outside. Quickly, T’Challa put his phone on 'Do Not Disturb' before walking out the door. He’ll worry about Erik later.

That night, Andre took him to a Greek restaurant. T’Challa had an innate dislike for Greek food but he remained nice and cordial with the man that was paying for him. Andre was-- how should he say-- dreary and dull. He talked about work most of the time, notably T’Challa’s father. He praised him, applauded everything he's done for the community with little left to say about anything else. All the while, T’Challa tried to change the subject to anything,  _ anything _ else just so he wouldn’t fall asleep.

“What sort of Tv shows do you like to watch?” T’Challa smiled, taking a small sip from his wine glass. 

Andre thought for a while, “Nothing really. I don’t watch much Tv.”

“Music then?”

Andre piped up at that and T’Challa's smile widened with hope. Hopefully, he finally convinced the man to talk about something else.

“Speaking of music, your father showed me this one song that had this weird beat but since he liked it, I decided to check out…”

_ His father… again. _

T’Challa pushed the scarcely eaten food out of the way and placed his elbow on the table, hand holding his chin.  _ Why did he go on this date? Just so he could stop brooding over Erik? That was close to being it but T’Challa wouldn’t admit it to himself. _ At this point, he’d rather watch Erik play video games for ten days straight than listen to this man speak. At least with Erik, he could laugh and have some type of fun, even if only for a few minutes. 

T'Challa soon finished his wine, wanting to pull out his phone to see what time it was. Luckily, Andre asked for the check a few minutes later then led them outside the restaurant. Andre looped his arm through T’Challa’s, making him cringe internally. At the moment, he regretted going on this date even more especially when he spotted Erik walking out of the shopping mall next to the restaurant.

“Sup, T’Challa.” T’Challa stopped in front of Erik and had a sudden impulse to remove his arm from Andre’s. That was before he spotted Linda next to him who was practically draped on Erik like a lifeline.

“Hi...” T’Challa said, eyeing Linda who seemed to be doing the same thing. She was lean and very pretty and T’Challa  **was not** a little jealous. Not one bit.

“You just came from that restaurant?” Erik motioned the building behind them, with his hands still in his jacket pocket. Then Erik smirked loomingly. “I thought you hated Greek food?”

He felt Andre shift next to him. “T’Challa told me that he loved Greek.” The man answered for him when T’Challa was too dumbstruck to speak because  _ not once _ did he ever say anything like that.

Erik snorted. “Nah, T’Challa doesn’t like it.” 

“Erik, it’s okay,” T’Challa said, begging Erik with his eyes to back down. He didn’t want this situation to get out of hand.

T’Challa’s words seemed to filter right through Erik as he fixed a smile-- that seemed more like a glare than anything-- on Andre. “Last time I checked, you said you hated it.”

“Erik,” Linda spoke up, pulling on Erik’s jacket, whispering something in his ear. T’Challa’s annoyance flared but was glad when Erik leaned away and instead sneered, showing off those golden canines of his. 

“I’m pretty sure I know T’Challa better than you.”

Andre frowned a bit. “Who’s this guy anyway, T’Challa?”

“It’s no one. He’s just a kid I tutor during the week.” He said, using Andre as a catalyst for his own…  _ jealousy _ . It was immature and so unlike him to react this way but he couldn’t help but be miffed by Linda’s presence. 

“Kid?” Erik said, his voice dropping a bit. T’Challa noted his vacant stare before Linda spoke up.

“Erik, let’s just go.” She grabbed ahold of Erik’s arm and pulled him back. “Sorry about that T’Challa and T’Challa’s  _ boyfriend _ , Erik’s had a little bit too much to drink tonight.” She spoke T’Challa’s name with a bite and assumed that Andre was something more than a friend.  _ The man wasn’t even close to being either of them at this point. _

“What? No, I di--” Erik started only to be cut off by Linda.   


“Let’s go.” She waved at the two of them, her gaze lingering on T’Challa before dragging Erik along with her. T’Challa watched them banter playfully back and forth until eventually, their arms were looped together as well.  __

Next to him, Andre scoffed. “What the hell was that? Does that kid like you or something?”

“...No.” 

_ Yes, he does and T’Challa was confused about his own feelings. He was substantially stalling them. It was with a slight awareness that he was falling deeper and deeper and would continue to do so until he gave in. _

T’Challa exhaled softly, finally unlooping his arm from Andre’s. “Can you take me home?” He asked, watching the man's brows knit together before he nodded solemnly.

Once they made it to the car, T’Challa turned off his ‘Do Not Disturb,’ prompting a couple of unread messages to pop up. Without hesitation, he clicked on the one message Erik sent, gripping the top of his pants as he read the response.

[E]- _ \--Yeah I almost forgot about that, your mom invited me btw, see u monday night _

[E]- _ \-- btw you’re ass looked nice in those jeans tonight _

T’Challa’s bit his lip, feeling his heart thump faster. After viewing the callow possessiveness that dared to dominate him tonight, T’Challa knew that Erik made it explicitly clear what he wanted and T’Challa felt a need to give it to him.

  
  


***

Erik pulled up to T’Challa’s family mansion, anticipating the events to come. He got out of his car, smoothed down his t-shirt and pocketed his keys.

_ An outdoor pool party with a couple of family friends _ \-- Erik repeated the message Ms. Udaku had sent him with excitement as he walked down the long path leading to the front door. As expected, T’Challa didn’t answer the door, however, he was still surprised when Nakia did.

She raised a brow before giving him a smile. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Touche.” Erik closed the door behind him then looked over the vast expanse of the massive entry hall. “They really be doing the most with these decorations. I can’t say I don’t like the African feel to it though. ”

“It’s mostly Ms. Udaku’s doing. I don’t think anyone else has a choice in the matter.” Nakia laughed sheepishly. “She’s got… questionable taste.”

“I agree,” Erik chuckled. “Where is everybody?”

“Out back, but I’m still braiding Shuri’s hair.” She sighed as she walked toward a small doorway situated in the middle of the grand stairwell. “Good thing I’m almost done.”

Guiding Erik through the doorway, he was faced with a familiar foyer that felt a bit smaller than it had seven years ago. He looked around, eyes naturally landing on the tall windows, giving him a clear view of the back yard. There were several people conversing on the patio and some in the large pool but he’d yet to spot T’Challa.

“Shuri, be still please.” Erik turned at the sound of Nakia’s voice, seeing Shuri sitting in a chair, playing with a Nintendo switch. She was swinging her legs back and forth and Erik was reminded of how many years had passed. She was no longer that chubby little toddler.

“Hey lil bit, you remember me?” Erik said, making his way over.

She looked up giving him a quizzical look. “No.”

“Well, we went trick or treating together when you were like four or something.”

She gasped, nodding her head frantically. “The one who looked sick in the photo?”

“What photo?”

“The Halloween one.” She looked back down at her game. “Brother has it on his dresser mirror.”

Erik had a sudden flashback and cleared his throat after taking a seat on the couch in front of them. “I… I barely remember that one.”  _ He lied. _ He keenly remembered taking that photo, he just didn’t know T’Challa actually kept it. Erik had a sudden impulse to find it and destroy his foregoing shame. 

“Are you brothers’ boyfriend?” Shuri asked.

“Wait, what?” Erik piped up, looking directly at Shuri, hearing Nakia laugh. “Where’d you hear that?”

She shrugged, briefly glancing up from her game. “He talks about you all the time.”

Erik raised a brow. "He talks about me?"

She nodded, some of her braids falling over her shoulder. 

"What does he say?” Erik urged, reeling at the idea that he was closer to his goal.

"Brother says that he's surprised at how big you've gotten and that you're handsome and very very smart."

“He said I’m handsome?”

“Mhm.” 

“Shuri, you shouldn’t be telling him your brother’s business like that.” Nakia scolded half-heartedly.

“But it's true.”

“Why should I believe you lil bit?” Erik mused, causing Shuri to look up with a frown.

“Because I listen to my brother when he talks on the phone with auntie Nakia.” She motioned to the latter who was wearing a guilty look. “It’s not like he’s trying to hide anything especially with how loud he talks.”

“Oh, really?” After hearing that, Erik could no longer hide his smirk. “That’s some valuable information, Shuri.”

Shuri shrugged, “My mama says I’m nosy.” 

“She’s right.” Nakia snickered.

“Don’t worry, lil bit, all the best people are.” Erik would know; he was nosy as hell growing up.

“What are you all talking about?” T’Challa intruded, crossing his long legs as he leaned against the patio door.

“ **Nothing** .” Shuri and Erik said in unison.

T’Challa frowned, giving his friend an inquisitive stare to which Nakia shrugged her shoulders too. T’Challa still wasn’t convinced. Knowing Nakia, she probably said something to Erik and from the smirk on Erik’s face, it was definitely about him.

“My mom wants to see you, Erik,” T’Challa said plainly, clearly not wanting to talk for long. “She’s by the barbeque pit.” He quickly diverted his attention and turned to Nakia. “Are you almost done?”

“Yeah, just one more left.” Shuri cheered when she heard, then proceeded to talk about jumping into the pool. 

Erik quietly made his way out the backdoor, consciously brushing T’Challa’s shoulder on the way out. He heard the latter inhale and stiffen before he was far away enough to turn around, getting a clear view of T'Challa's backside. He steadily walked backward, watching T’Challa’s ass with an appreciative hum. As if sensing his eyes, T’Challa looked over his shoulder, giving Erik a diminutive once over before widening his eyes.

Erik would have questioned it if it weren’t for his foot missing a step and hitting the water, pulling his upper body backward into the pool. With effervescence, the water surrounded him and Erik actually considered staying underneath. He should have learned his lesson the first time when he fucking burned his hand. In the end, he concluded that this was T’Challa’s fault for having such a nice ass.

Mirthless laughter pierced his ears when he came up for air with T’Challa’s being the loudest, virtually doubled over in laughter. Erik kept a straight face as his lip quivered from the cool water despite the heat filling his cheeks. It was then he remembered his cell phone, the one in the pocket of his swim shorts. “Shit.” He mumbled, averting his eyes from T’Challa and Nakia rolling on the ground in merriment to his embarrassment. At that moment, all he could think about was how he ruined his second cell phone in just one year.  _ His mom was going to kill him. _

“Oh my!” Ramonda ran over, directing Erik to the pool ladder on the far right end. With his shoulders slumped, he accepted the towel Ramonda put over his shoulders. “We need to get you dried off.” She insisted, ordering T’Challa to put his soaking shirt into the dryer. T’Challa obeyed, wiping the tears from the corner, eventually leading Erik to the laundry room. They went to the downstairs one just to see all the machines full of clothes but lo and behold, the mansion had one upstairs right next to the game room.

Erik removed the wet shirt, sticking to his chest as he did. With the shirt down to his elbows, he caught T’Challa staring at him. _ Erik was no idiot.  _ He knew how T’Challa looked at him. For a while now, he’d been sure of it but for some reason, he was playing hard to get.  _ Erik would have to fix that. _

Erik handed T’Challa his shirt. “Was it really that funny to have y’all fall on the ground and shit?”

T’Challa tried to hold back another laugh while throwing his shirt into the dryer. “It was so funny! I couldn’t help it.” 

“It wasn’t  _ that _ funny.” Erik watched him set the timer to twenty minutes.

“It was though.” T’Challa’s laughter died down, letting the dryer fill the room with a soft humming sound.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… was that your boyfriend the other day?” Erik spoke up, not knowing how he was going to react if T’Challa said ‘yes.’

“... No.” T’Challa said in a quiet voice. “He was a co-worker.”

Erik nodded in understanding, “So...” he moved a little closer, forcing T’Challa to slowly back away. “...that means I still have a chance then.” Erik made his notions evident, given that they were alone at the moment. 

“N-not really.” T’Challa stuttered as his back hit the edge of the dryer. 

"Why are you playing so hard to get?”

"I'm not.”

"You are.” Erik puts his hands on the edge of the dyer, feeling T’Challa go still as he caged him in. It was a swift flicker of the eye, but Erik was sure T’Challa just looked at his lips. _ So he was expecting something to happen. _

"If you really didn't want me,” Erik continued. “You wouldn't let me do this.” He grabbed T’Challa’s hips, pulling him flush against his bare chest. “You'd push me off right?” T’Challa turned his head and avoided his gaze, prompting Erik to grab his chin, forcing him to look back. “Push me off, kitten.”

Erik heard T'Challa’s breath hitch as their lips brushed but he didn’t pull away; he didn’t run. He stayed right there with his eyes glistening in the fluorescents shining down on them. “Push me off,” Erik repeated, waiting one full second before smashing their lips together. Erik moved quickly, forcing T’Challa’s mouth open and securing his tongue. T’Challa groaned against Erik’s lips, his hands hovering over his sides, hesitating to touch him. It wasn’t until Erik ground against him that T’Challa reacted. 

Everything was persistent after that, shoulder gripping and hair tugging-- all of it came from T’Challa’s end and Erik was just following along. He let T’Challa’s greedy hands roam every which way until they settled on holding the back of Erik’s neck like he was going to run away. Erik wouldn’t say that he wasn’t surprised because he was. As reluctant as T’Challa was being, he sure as hell was bruising the shit out of his mouth. 

“Brother!”

They froze.

“Brother! Mama said hurry down!” Shuri yelled from afar. “The fireworks are about to start!”

T’Challa swiftly pushed Erik back and responded. “Okay, coming!” As expected, he didn’t spare Erik a glance when he left the room.

Erik cursed and rubbed at his bottom lip, feeling his mouth give way to a small grin. With undaunted certainty, he walked out of the room, passing the game room on the way down the hallway. He paused, regarding the set of familiar lounge chairs, letting out a small laugh. Things were different now; extremely different. He no longer harbored any of those childish worries.  _ He didn't need to _ , Erik thought as he walked away. He wasn’t worried at all. 

_ Erik was going to get what he wanted. _

Erik knew T’Challa was going to be hesitant but he wasn’t going to back off not when he was  _ so _ close. For now, he’d let his tutor ponder and contemplate, even though it was obvious what he wanted-- what they both wanted. Maybe he’d push him a bit more and make him a little jealous. 

_ Yeah, that sounded fun. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Three._

Linda repeated the number in her head as she hummed along to the radio in Erik’s car. She’d been rejected three times by Erik since she was fourteen years old and yet they still hung out. Once the awkwardness wore off it was pretty easy to bounce back to just being friends. Often times she thought that just because he didn't want her romantically, didn’t mean she wasn’t important to him. They’ve been friends since kindergarten for heaven’s sake so it was hard to break away from that pattern. 

The last rejection had been two years ago when she got a boyfriend but then they broke up and her feelings for Erik came back. She didn’t tell Erik that though, she kept him in the dark this time, making sure he knew that she’d grown out of her childhood crush. Still, it was tough to accept the constant rejections and like Erik, Linda was stubborn and wouldn’t give up. Not now, when she still thought she had a chance. Even with T’Challa back in Erik’s life, Linda wasn't going to back down just yet.

“You want me to do what?” Linda exclaimed as they got out of Erik’s car. He locked the door, leading Linda to the sidewalk surrounding the biggest park in the town.

“I need your help,” Erik said, sitting down on the first bench they came upon. “You owe me, Lin.”

She perked a brow, deciding to lean on the back of the bench. “How do I owe you?”

“Remember that time you made me do shit in front of that guy you were crushing on?” 

“That was two years ago.”

“That’s why you owe me big time." Erik thought back to that moment. At the time Linda had been adamant when it came to making the guy she was talking to, jealous. After a little fake drunkenness with them hugged up on each other at a party, making sure the guy was looking, the plan was fail-proof. The guy was rigidly jealous and took Linda away from him real quick. 

“Just this once, Lin. I swear I won’t ask you to do it again.” Linda studied her nails, feeling Erik tug at the back of her shirt. “Come on, Lin. Please?”

“...Only because I owe you, will I help you out.” Her mind paced with disarray after she agreed. “How did you find out his work-out schedule anyway.”

“I messaged his friend Nakia on Instagram. She was _extremely_ willing to help.”

“Stalker.”

Erik chuckled. “I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

"Ah shit, he’s here." Erik couldn’t help but leer at T’Challa as he ran down the sidewalk. He had trim build, not overly muscular, not too skinny. Just enough ass for Erik to grab whenever he got the chance. Erik steepled his fingers and observed the view, watching as T’Challa’s flex stride shorts rode up an inch every time he lifted a knee. 

"Sexy as hell."

"Oh God, please spare me." Linda mocked before looking over her shoulder to see T'Challa jogging down the sidewalk. “ _Pretty sure I look better_.” She mumbled under her breath.

"What’s the problem?” Erik threw his elbows over the back of the bench. “I hear you talking about the guys you like all the time."

Linda didn’t mention that it was to make him jealous; she couldn’t. Not when Erik didn’t know she still liked him “Whatever, Erik--”

“I think he spotted us. Ready to put on a show Lin Lin?" Erik asked, already grabbing Linda by the waist.

"What have I told you about adding a second ‘Lin’?" Linda lamented, swinging her legs over the back of the bench, sliding down to straddle Erik's lap. She wrapped her arms around her friend’s neck, making it apparent that she was whispering in his ear. “I swear I’m going to kill you after this.”

Erik laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

“I won’t if... you let me kiss you.”

Erik stiffened at those words, slowly pulling her away from his waist. “... We talked about this Lin.” He warned.

“That’s not what I meant.” She quickly recovered. “If you want your babysitter to be even more jealous, this will work.”

“He’s not my babysitter anymore, I keep telling you thi--!” Linda plastered her cold lips against Erik’s faster than he anticipated before he shoved her off.

“The fuck,” Erik said wiped at his lips, feeling them curl into a sneer. As if it were by fate, that Linda’s embarrassment be forgotten, they heard a yelp and a thud on the ground from afar.

"Shit!" Erik pushed past Linda and ran toward T’Challa. She slumped back on the bench and rubbed her lips together, watching as Erik dashed over the short slate of grass to make it to T’Challa. 

_Why did she do that?_ _This was going to ruin everything…_ _as if there were anything between them in the first place_. _There wasn’t… there wasn’t going to be. Why did she still like him even after he made it clear that they were best off just being friends?_

These thoughts plagued her mind as she sluggishly stood up and went to go check out the situation. Linda dragged her legs over the short slate of grass, loathing every inch that brought her closer to T’Challa and Erik. 

“You okay, kitten? Where does it hurt?” Erik asked frantically, helping T’Challa sit up.

At the moment, she wanted to disappear as a horrible weight settled in her heart. She was no longer the only person that Erik gave a nickname too.

"My--" T’Challa groaned, rubbing the spot a little above his ankle. “I think I twisted it.”

“Hold on, I got you.”

Before T’Challa could reject his offer, Erik was already lifting him up off the ground and he gasped. "Erik!" 

"Don't worry, kitten, I won’t drop you."

He flailed a bit, eventually wrapping his arms around Erik’s neck. He winced as his ankles dangled and moved about but anything was better than walking at this point. Before long, he caught a sight moving from his peripheral, seeing Linda stop in front of them.

“Is he okay?” She said, her tone impartial to the situation. She gave T’Challa a look, one he couldn’t comprehend, but he knew it wasn’t a kind one.

“He twisted his ankle.” Erik turned and started forward, not sparing Linda a glance. “I’m driving him to the E.R.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad. He can just ice it at home.” She followed them down the sidewalk. “He’s not a child, Erik.” She laughed a bit, stopping herself only after she realized the insensitivity of her amusement. Erik had always been insecure when it came to his age, even more so when the person he loved was older than him. She sort of felt bad for messing with him and wasn’t surprised when Erik pivoted and fixed her with a glare.

“Lin... just shut the hell up.” 

Linda took a step back, feeling the pressure of his stare seep into her mind. She then looked to T’Challa, seeing skepticism plastered in his gaze. _She had no place between them. And she never will._ Eventually, she looked off to the side, wanting to disappear at this very moment as embarrassment stirred within her.

“My bad…” She quickly uttered, forcing herself to look back at Erik.

With minimal eye contact, he offered her one last solace. “We’ll talk later.”

Her mood plummeted as she watched them go, knowing that Erik was done with her antics for good. The pattern would never repeat itself after this. Linda wasn’t sure she’d even be given a second chance with their friendship. Their talk later could be about a number of things and she was not quite ready to hear them. At that moment, Linda thought she needed to take some time to herself and finally... tolerate his feelings, work through hers, and try to _slowly but surely_ move on. Who knows, she might find in time that they were better off being friends in the first place. 

“I gotta stop this shit.” Linda sighed loudly and pulled out her cellphone to call her friend.

“Hey, Cynthia, think you can pick me up?” She walked over the same slate of grass and towards the parking lot, watching as Erik helped T’Challa into his car. “Yeah, Erik’s ass left me at the park. But I’m good though because... I’ve just realized something…”

  
  


***

“It’s fractured.” 

T’Challa stared at the doctor as if he didn’t believe him. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” She said while adjusting her glasses. “The X-Rays showed a tiny crack on the tibia. It’s not big but I think it’s best if you wear a cast and use crutches for the time being.”

“For how long?”

“Hmm, possibly three weeks. It shouldn’t be any longer than that as long as you rest up.” The doctor finished scribbling something on her clipboard. “I’ll get everything set up for you along with some pain medication.” After T’Challa said a quick ‘thank you’, she left the room in the silence it was in when she first entered.

T’Challa gave a hard swallow before peering over at Erik who was already staring at him. Promptly, as he turned away, not looking at the glove box attached to the wall, T’Challa forced himself to speak. 

“I wanted to say--”

“I’m sorr--”

They spoke over one another bringing about another awkward silence in the room. He fidgeted with the paper sheet below him, compelling his mind to work. Denial was no longer in question after what he saw at the park. Linda was kissing Erik and T’Challa felt bitter; he felt the need to recoil at the sight. He’d gotten to kiss those lips twice before and he’d never felt so… so whole and turned on in his entire life. T’Challa had been wanting to feel Erik’s lips on his for days now, and to see her touch him was… Bast, he hadn’t felt this jealous in a long time. He wasn’t even sure how to handle it anymore.

“Does Linda not like me?” T’Challa asked after a while, proceeding to tug at the sheet below.

“She… yeah, she doesn’t like you.” Erik cleared his throat. “Not since we were kids.”

“Did I do something to offend her?”

“Making me fall for you. That’s about it.” Erik proclaimed easily. 

T’Challa let go of the crumbling paper, yearning to have the confidence Erik flaunted without a second thought. At the same time, his heart thumped rapidly at Erik’s words even as he continued talking.

“She’s got this crush on me and my stupid ass thought that she was over it.”

“You two… kissed.” T’Challa finally looked over at Erik, noting his conflicted expression.

“She forced a kiss on me and caught me off guard.” He said while gritting his teeth. “I didn’t want that. I was just… tryna... make you jealous.”

T’Challa suddenly felt light-headed with bliss, seeing Erik sulk, as his foolish behavior beheld him. T’Challa breathed softly, trying to will his heart to slow down because he knew he couldn’t stop the next words from spewing out of his mouth. “Well, as immature as that was... it worked.”

Erik reacted quickly, looking at T’Challa wide eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re fucking with me right now?”

T’Challa shook his head, letting a grin grace his face. “I was distracted when I saw you two and then I tripped on ...nothing.” _Nothing at all, except for the straight and narrow ground._ T’Challa felt his cheeks heat up after admitting this and started pulling at the paper sheet again. He wondered if he was giving in too easily until he spotted Erik’s broad smile. It coasted over his handsome features, forcing T’Challa to once again throw all doubts out the window.

“Erik, I must tell you that this is all still very confusing to me but…” T’Challa took another breath, letting go of the sheet completely. “I am attracted to you.” 

“I can’t believe you’re finally admitting it,” Erik said before he stood up, walking over to T’Challa’s bedside.

“I can’t deny it any longer.” T’Challa disclosed with a timid smile, letting Erik grab a hold of his hand.

“I know, kitten,” Erik said slanting at the right angle to lean down and kiss T’Challa. He was so close until a hand on his chest stalled his movement. With a lifted brow he backed off, “What’s wrong?”

“You just kissed someone else,” T’Challa said plainly with a tiny smirk.

“Come on, kitten, you can’t be serious.”

T’Challa shrugged, happily motioning Erik over to the sink on the other side of the room.

Erik scoffed, running a hand through his locks as he walked over to the sink. “You’re a real prissy, you know that?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s true though.” Erik ended up laughing as he scrubbed his lips with soap and water, wiping them down with a dry ass paper towel then moving back over to T’Challa. “You owe me for this shit, kitten.”

T’Challa shook his head, drawing Erik closer by the hem of his shirt. “This should be payment enough.” They finally kissed, both sighing against the cool contact of their equally soft lips. It wasn’t as pushy as their other ones, but it was no less passionate, for they’d both been craving for it.

“And one more thing. You’ve got to tell me where you got that nickname from.” T’Challa spoke against his lips. 

“We can talk about that later.” Erik chuckled. “Right now, I wanna kiss you.”

T’Challa almost rolled his eyes at his impatience and at his unruly and immature actions thus far, but he could work with it. _For now._ He grabbed the back of Erik’s neck, bringing their lips together once more.

“Um, excuse me sirs.” They quickly parted with bashful smiles.

“I’m ready to put on the cast.”

“Sorry bout that,” Erik said. “Go ahead.” He sat back down and watched the doctor move about the room, waiting until she was turned away to grab T’Challa’s hand. T’Challa looked down at their hands before looking into Erik’s eyes giving him a sensual smile. He only looked away when the doctor came around the bed to prop up his leg.

“Damn,” Erik muttered knowing that it was going to be hard to hold back with T’Challa egging him on like that. But this was nothing compared to the time he waited until he was of age. Erik was patient; exceedingly patient. He was willing to wait… until the end of this summer, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is possibly the last time you will ever see Linda. Yay! 
> 
> I'm planning another part called "The Boyfriend" after this one and who knows if she'll appear 😅 Maybe not.
> 
> Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so much! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

_ How did everything change so quickly?  _

Just two weeks ago, T’Challa was simply Erik’s tutor. Despite that fact still being the same, they barely studied anymore. As of this moment, they were at T’Challa’s condo and he found himself seated on Erik’s lap, kissing his lips as if he was going to die the next day. It was brash and desperate, T’Challa swore he tasted blood at some point but that did nothing to stop them. It felt borderline forbidden, something he knew his parents would question and yet it felt  _ so damn good _ . Their mouths melded together perfectly and T'Challa, especially, was getting off on this. He moaned and sighed at the heavenly touch that Erik's hands provided as they grabbed his hips, pulling him forward, for they both didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Well, at least that used to be the plan. It wasn't until T’Challa felt a striking pain run through his leg that he stubbornly pulled away.

"Wait," T'Challa said, having to catch his breath before he spoke again. "Stop." 

Erik frowned down at T'Challa, panting a bit. "Stop what?"

"My leg is straining in this position." T’Challa huffed, trying to maneuver himself off of Erik’s lap with his ankle cast in tow. “Don’t laugh.” T’Challa slapped Erik’s shoulder after he plopped down beside him. The new position didn’t stop Erik from trying to kiss him once more. Not that T’Challa minded. In fact, he eagerly sighed into the kiss finding himself being pulled into that trance. It no longer mattered that Erik was younger than him. T’Challa was way past that and now desired to have something more.

“How long till this thing comes off?” Erik asked, moving to mouth at T’Challa’s neck.

“I have a follow up in one week so-- “ T’Challa keened softly as Erik nipped his skin. “--hopefully then.” 

“Yeah, hopefully.” Erik kissed all the way up his neck until he reached T’Challa’s dainty lips. They ended up making out again, T’Challa trying so hard not to straddle the man’s thighs again, luckily Erik’s phone started to ring, forcing them to part.

“Who the-- oh, it’s my mom.” T’Challa straightened up when Erik answered the phone. “Hey, ma… nothing just _ studying _ with T’Challa… give me one sec.” He told T’Challa before walking out the door to finish the conversation.

T’Challa looked down at the cast covering his leg and reflected on the current situation. Erik’s mom knew about their  _ peculiar  _ development the day after it happened. In actuality, she’s known about Erik’s crush ever since he was a kid. It was then that T’Challa learned that Erik and his mom were close and felt comfortable enough to talk about anything. This fact alone drew light to T’Challa’s own relationship with his parents. 

Sure, he was close to his mama and baba but it was only to a certain extent. He rarely told them about the dates he’s had over the years, the Tv shows that he’s watching, or anything really. T’Challa had his friends for that mostly because they didn’t try to referee his life. Which is the exact reason why he hasn’t told his parents about Erik yet.

They knew nothing. They still thought T’Challa was tutoring Erik-- which he was-- even though they’ve certainly cut back on studying and instead took to making out and flirting for hours on end. T’Challa’s come home with puffy lips more times than he could count and thankfully, no one questioned him. T’Challa just honestly didn’t know how his parents would react to this development. He didn’t even know if he wanted to tell them-- not yet at least. Maybe in two years when Erik graduates or maybe when he gets his Master's-- no, his Ph.D. T’Challa sighed mentally, knowing he was stalling. 

When it came down to it, T’Challa knew that for them to be truly settled in a relationship, he would need to eventually tell his parents. Especially his baba, who insisted that T’Challa date someone from their “social circle.” But T’Challa’s been there and done that. All those guys were nice but they were boring, inconsiderate, and borderline stuck up. He’s never felt comfortable enough to make silly jokes and watch stupid movies with them like he did with Erik. No one clicked like they did and no one ever would.

T’Challa looked up at Erik when he walked back into the room. “Sorry bout that, kitten. You know when she starts talking she doesn't stop.”

“Trust me, I understand.” T’Challa immediately thought of his own mother and Erik laughed when he caught on.

“Speaking of your mom, how is she?” He flopped back down on the couch, throwing an arm over T’Challa’s shoulders. “We haven’t really gotten the chance to talk for a while.”

“She’s as fine as she’ll ever be,” T’Challa answered as he laid his head on Erik’s arm. “She’s planning another dinner party, except  _ this time _ it’s actually for something important.”

“You gotta help her cook again?”

“No, and thank Bast that I don’t. This time she hired caterers under my baba’s request.” T’Challa was relieved when he found out about that. If he did anymore cooking for the rest of this summer, it would be for himself and Erik. 

“What’s the party for?” Erik said, languidly card his fingers through T’Challa’s short curls.

“My baba finally signed a merger contract with his friend’s company so they decided to throw a party to celebrate.”

“Sounds cool. Am I invited?”

T’Challa tilted his head in a way so he could see Erik. “Of course you’re invited but…” 

“But?” Erik snorted. “I knew this was coming.”

“But…” T’Challa continued. “Let’s try to keep our relationship… um…”

“On the down-low?” T’Challa nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry Erik.” Guilt flooded through T’Challa, leading him to sit up and look directly into Erik’s eyes. “I promise we can tell them soon but... just not now.” He urged softly.

Erik shrugged. “I’m not that bothered by it, trust me.” Erik kissed T’Challa’s forehead, relaxing them both. “But there is one thing I wanna know though.”

“What is it?”

“We don’t have to wear a suit and tie, do we?”

T’Challa laughed, laying his head back down on Erik’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I already have an outfit picked out for you. We just need to get it fitted.”

Erik shook his head with a small grin. “Of course you do.”

  
  


*

*

*

One week later

*

*

*

“How do I look?” Erik turned away from the large mirror by the grand staircase.

“Wow.” Nakia took a sip from her wine glass and walked around him. “I hardly recognize you.”

“Really?” Erik looked over at the mirror, once again appreciating T’Challa’s style in clothing. A dark golden turtleneck shirt with a black suit jacket and black pants. 

“A Rolex?” Nakia commented as she held up Erik’s wrist. “Submariner. Nice choice.”

“I don’t know shit about this stuff.” Nakia laughed as he lightly snatched his wrist back. “I just chose the first one I saw.” Erik didn’t mention that he accidentally dropped one on the marble flooring in T’Challa’s bedroom and ended up breaking the glass casing. Right now, it was stuffed in his jacket pocket and he swore he’d let T’Challa know about it later when they weren’t around anyone.

“Uncle Erik!” Both Nakia and Erik looked over at the sound of tiny heels clanking on the floor before Shuri came around the corner with a small frown on her face.

“Sup, princess.” Erik taunted, causing the eleven-year-old to huff irritably.

“Don’t call me that!” She tugged on her little fluffy white dress that she clearly didn’t have a choice in choosing. 

“You look cute, Shuri.” Nakia walked over and fixed the braids falling out of her bun.

“I do not.” She pulled at her dress again, the frown never leaving her face. “I don’t want to wear this. I need your help to convince my mama of that.” She pouted, looking up at Erik with pleading eyes.

Erik shook his head as he walked over then bent down to one knee. “Listen, lil bit, I know it’s hard not being able to pick out your own clothes, but it’s just for one night. Think you can hold it out?”

She crossed her arms. “Not really, because mama wants me to dress like this all the time.”

“Well, that sucks.” Nakia snickered as she finished fixing Shuri’s hair.

“Yeah, it does.” Erik continued. “But you know what would make it better?”

Shuri raised her brows in interest. “What?”

“If your pretty little dress _ just so happens _ to get stained… then you can’t wear it anymore, can you?”

“Bast, you’re wicked.” Nakia laughed, taking another sip of her wine. “But wouldn’t her mom just find another dress for her to wear?”

“Nuh uh.” Shuri smiled. “All of those are too small for me now… after I  _ accidentally  _ put them in the dryer.”

“Accidently, huh?” Erik stood up, feeling like that was something he would have done as a child. “Well, what’re you waiting for, lil bit? I think I saw a chocolate fountain in the kitchen.”

She nodded happily, surprising Erik with a small hug before running away. “That’s perfect. Thanks, uncle Erik!” She ran off and Nakia sighed.

“I’m guessing you were a bad kid huh?”

“No, not at all.” 

_ On occasion. _

“You’re a liar, Erik Stevens.” She said, making Erik wonder why she said his last name.

“Erik Stevens?” Both Nakia and Erik turned around to another impending voice. It was another arriving couple in color coordinating outfits. “You’re Erik?” The woman said again.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’m Okoye, T’Challa’s friend and this is my boyfriend, W’Kabi.”

“Nice to meet you,” W’Kabi said, sticking out his hand to shake.

“You too.” He shook back. “I don’t think I’ve heard about y’all two.”

“Really?” Okoye said as she moved out of the way of the front door when more people arrived. “I’m surprised. We’re both T’Challa’s close friends.”

“Remember when I mentioned them in passing?” Nakia spoke up after she hugged the couple.

Erik didn’t recall having heard about them or did he? Their names sounded very familiar and-- oh-- “Y’all the ones that can’t ever stay togeth-- Mmph!” A hand covered Erik’s mouth, forcing him to shut the hell up. 

“Sorry about him,” T’Challa said, finally removing his hand from Erik’s mouth. “I haven’t had time to tell him about you two yet.”

“That’s fine,” Okoye assured him with a curious gaze. “We’ll get to know each other some other time.” 

"Glad to see that you're all healed up, T’Challa," W'Kabi added, motioning toward his leg.

"Thanks, me too."

“Well, we’ll talk later then.” The couple smiled before they saw someone else they knew in the distance and walked off.

“Immature idiot.” Nakia laughed as she replaced her glass of wine from one of the passing servers.

“My bad,” Erik said, watching Nakia wave a quick goodbye before following after her friends into the crowded foyer. Erik didn’t even get the chance to wave back before he felt himself being pulled into another room that was a little ways away from the grand staircase. 

“Cheeky.” T’Challa tutted, as he straightened his jacket.

“Always will be.” Erik smiled at T’Challa, feeling a little nostalgic about their position. 

“You look good. That means I did a good job.” T’Challa grinned and patted Erik’s chest before giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Way to make it obvious.” Erik looked around, making sure nobody saw them.  _ Not that he cared anyway. _

“No one’s around to see.” T’Challa laughed then gasped when Erik drew him close by the waist, pulling him into a deeper kiss. If Erik had a say in all of this, it would have lasted longer but he let T’Challa push away.

“Behave,” T’Challa said as he detached himself from Erik’s warm body.

“Prissy.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Nothing.” 

T’Challa rolled his eyes before turning around toward the door. Erik watched T’Challa saunter out the room, ass on full display for him to appreciate. God he hoped T’Challa told his parents soon. He wanted to show everybody in this house that T’Challa was his and his alone.

***

The party was at the two-hour mark when Erik finally decided to sit down. He’d done his best trying to talk to some of these people but in the end, they just made his head hurt. Be that as it may, Erik couldn’t deny that there were _ some _ advantages to talking with these rich people. 

_ Connections. _

Once they found out his current GPA and that he went to MIT, they bombarded him with questions and sometimes presented him with offers. Erik got a couple of business cards here and there and he all but gratefully stuffed them into the pocket where that broken Rolex sat. 

Every single time he touched that watch, he was reminded of little he saw T’Challa throughout the night. There was an occasional view here and there but did nothing to sate his desire of just wanting to be near him.

“You’re the one that goes to MIT, right?” 

Erik groaned internally before looking over at another prying rich guy. “Yeah that’s me--” Erik went completely still after seeing who it was. 

_ Darnell? What the fuck was he doing here? _

“Man, that’s crazy. I’m finishing up my Masters there, right now.” He laughed and Erik inherently cringed at the all too familiar sound. It was rough, loud and just plain ugly.

“Oh, really? Erik answered grimly.  _ How was it possible that this man was still scrawny?  _ Especially compared to Erik since he had buffed up over the years.

“Yeah, man.” He sat down next to Erik, blowing a whiff of loud cologne his way. Erik shifted, moving away without Darenell’s notice, hoping that he sort of would have.  _ Please leave, _ Erik mentally begged. Unfortunately, it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

“I got like one semester left.”

“Cool.” Erik’s reaction was flat.

“I don’t think I need it though. My dad already hired me as his business manager.” Darnell laughed unabashedly. 

“Wow.” His reaction remained as flat as it could be.

“I’m basically just staying there for the hoes, Y’know what I mean?” He laughed again.

“Mhm,” Erik answered into his glass of champagne, deciding just now to pay attention to the flavor of the drink. It tasted almost yeasty, a little bubbly, not much fruity flavor but Erik knew he could deal.

“Hey, you listening?”

“What?” Erik looked up after actively neglecting to listen. “Nah, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Darnell’s smile faltered. “I asked what your major was?”

Erik placed the half-empty wine glass on the side table next to him and replied, “Engineering,” After merely saying one word and nothing else, Erik pulled out his cellphone and started going through random things. He didn’t even bother to ask what Darnell’s major was. He didn’t care.

Darnell nodded,  _ finally _ seeming to read between the lines. That’s one thing Erik can say he liked about the man-- he seemed to know when to take a hint.

“Well, it was nice talking to you um…?”

“Erik.”

“Yeah, Erik.” He nodded, stood up then walked off into the crowd. But of course, that wouldn’t be the last time Erik saw him. At almost every turn, Erik saw him either talking to someone else or taking a bite of the finger foods. It wasn’t as if Erik was looking for him, he just so happened to be in his line of sight. Erik was lucky that T’Challa’s mom decided to formally distract him during his inner turmoil. 

“Erik, would you be a dear and get that photobook down from the top shelf?” She pointed at the tall bookcase behind him.

“Yeah, I got you Ms. Udaku.” Erik had to stretch a bit but he eventually grabbed a hold of the thick spine and handed it to Ramonda.

“Thank you, dear.” She patted his arm while Erik noticed that a picture had fallen to the floor.

“Don’t forget this one.” Erik handed her the photo, almost disregarding the familiar person on the cover. He looked at it, seeing a younger version of his mom and Ramonda.

“Oh, I thought I lost this one long ago.” She moved next to him and looked down at the picture.

“Y’all look young here. Where did all the time go?” Erik mused.

Ramonda made a face, lightly smacking Erik on the shoulder with a chuckle. “We  _ still _ look young. Especially your mother.” She grabbed the photo to get a close look. “We were about twenty-two then, if I remember correctly. We’d just joined a sorority and I had just been proposed to.”

“You were moving kinda quick there, huh, Ms. Udaku?” Erik joked, watching as Ramonda laughed again.

“You’re so silly, just like your father, Erik.”

Erik smiled, pride welling in his heart. He always liked hearing about his dad whenever he got the chance. Knowing that T’Challa’s parents also knew him, he felt the need to ask more about him. “My mom said that I was too.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” She said, moving the photo album to her other arm. “I remember urging your mother to hurry up and marry N’Jobu so that we could get pregnant at the same time.”

Erik snorted. “Really?”

She nodded frantically. “Yes dear, we always had these little fantasies about our children getting married and all that.” 

“Y’all were really something else.” Erik laughed along with Ramonda.

"Yes, we were. And… I always regretted not staying in contact with your mother once me T’Chaka went back to Wakanda after college. It was a shame that she wasn’t there for T’Challa’s birth and I, for yours.” She looked at Erik with simpering remorse. “But I’m glad we’re all here in America now and that you and T’Challa are getting along.”

“Me too, Ms. Udaku.”

“Call me auntie, dear.” She smiled before looking away at the group of ladies calling for her. “Looks like they’re asking for me. Thank you again, Erik.”

“No problem, auntie.” 

“Oh,” She quickly pivoted, giving Erik a pointed look. “And don’t think I didn’t see you drinking from that wine glass more than once tonight.”

_ Damn. He should have been more discrete. _

“My bad auntie.” Erik sheepishly scratched the back of his head.  _ He’s already gotten in enough trouble for breaking his cellphone. He bought a new one himself this time but still. He couldn’t afford to piss his mom off even more while she was out of town.  _ “Please don’t tell my mom.”

“Only if I don't see you do it again.” She proclaimed and Erik easily agreed.

“I promise you won’t.” He sighed with relief and watched her walk back toward her group of friends, leaving him to his own thoughts. If auntie had stayed in America after college, then he and T’Challa could have actually grown up together. They could have possibly been together without all the struggle. It wasn’t as if Erik didn’t like the way things were right now-- besides all the secrecy-- but just the notion was fun and exciting to ponder. Erik knew T’Challa was worried about his parent’s opinions but as things were, Erik felt like they’d be fine with it. They had too, otherwise, Erik wasn’t sure what he was going to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I had to bring Darnell back 😂😂


	7. Chapter 7

***The Same Night***

“Uh oh.” Nakia’s voice suddenly appeared behind Erik, forcing him to turn around.

“What is it?” He asked, watching her lightly sway on her feet as she took another sip from the wine glass. It was evident that she’d drank a little bit too much that night and had passed the limits of being tipsy long ago. Honestly, Erik never took her for the type to ever get flat out drunk especially at this type of party. Then again, Erik didn’t really know her like that.

“Woah.” Erik reacted fast, holding her steady when she swayed too far to one side. “You good, Nakia?”

She giggled, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Erik said as he casually grabbed the glass from her. “I think you’ve had enough of this for the rest of the night.”

She scoffed before standing upright, eyes darting toward the wine glass in Erik’s hand. “Listen I’m fine… r-really good.” Her words slurred together, watching as Erik set the glass down on a vacant table. “I actually came over here to tell you something.” 

“Tell me what?” He looked at her with a confused frown.

She smirked. “Looks like your boyfriend’s in a bit of trouble over there.” She pointed towards T’Challa talking with- _fucking scrawny ass._

“What the fuck?” Erik grounded himself, not moving from his spot with reluctance. If Erik walked over there, he was going to make a scene and he knew T’Challa wouldn’t want that but he was losing his patience. T’Challa seemed as annoyed as he was and tried to move away but Darnell was persistent and even had the audacity to grab a hold of T’Challa’s hand.

_Fuck it. Erik was going over there._

“Hell nah,” Erik uttered as he started forward.

"I can't wait to see this." Nakia grabbed another glass of wine before she speedily followed after Erik.

Erik made it just in time for Darnell to kiss the back of T’Challa’s hand before Erik graciously yanked it away. T'Challa looked over with an expression filled with relief and slight wariness.

“Kitten,” Erik didn't let go of T'Challa's hand. “Everything good over here?” He looked over at Darnell who was now scowling at him.

“Yes, I’m fine, Erik.” T’Challa’s tone was slightly scolding because Erik had used his nickname.

"Yeah, he's fine,” Darnell spoke up. “We were just catching up." 

Darnell winked and T'Challa scoffed. "No, we really weren't."

"Come on, T’Challa. Let's just talk for a while."

"Umnqundu wakho (Fuck you)." T'Challa spat in Xhosa trying to keep some modesty, knowing that not everyone here spoke it. This caused Nakia to laugh before T’Challa turned around and pulled Erik along. "Let's go."

“Hold up, kitten.” With a smirk, Erik turned back around, already knowing what he was about to say was going to cause some trouble. “Ohh, that’s right.” Erik feigned having an epiphany, waving a single finger in Darnell’s direction. “I remember you.”

“No shit.” Darnell snorted obnoxiously. “We just met like ten minutes ago.”

“No, no, I mean from years ago.” 

“Years ago?” He raised a brow. “Man, I’ve never even seen you before today.”

“Nah, you’ve met me before.”

Darnell frowned, giving Erik a skeptical look.

“I remember it clearly.” Erik continued and cocked his head letting pettiness overtake him. “When you cheated on T’Challa…” A couple of heads in the room turned at that. “...Twice.” Erik said a little louder causing more heads to turn then people started to whisper.

“Erik,” T’Challa warned half-heartedly.

Erik squeezed his hand. “I got this, kitten.” 

“S-shut the hell up, man. That’s none of your business.” Darnell stuttered, eyes wandering around the room to all the prying stares.

“None of my business? Just a second ago you were bragging about going to MIT just to “fuck the hoes.” Murmurs from the crowd grew louder. “From my point of view, you're just putting everything out there so I guess it’s _everyone’s_ business.”

“Who are you to T’Challa anyway?” He retorted.

“That doesn’t matter because right now, we’re talking about you. A grown man disrespecting women as well as cheating on his boyfriend and living off his daddy’s money.” With squinted eyes, Erik rubbed his chin. “Now what does that make you… little man?”

The nickname rang through Darnell's head just as he started to recognize who he was talking to. “You-you’re that one kid...” Darnell started before glancing around the room full of curious eyes. He soon grew confident enough to try and corner Erik. “Man, imma bout one second away from--”

“That’s enough, Darnell Jones.” They all looked over at T’Chaka who was giving Darnell an icy stare. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Udaku.” Erik almost laughed at how much Darnell’s whole demeanor changed. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” 

“I’m sure our family didn’t invite you to this event. And you know well enough that you’re not welcome here.” T’Chaka said simply as he straightened his glasses. “Please make your way out or I will inform the police about your trespassing.”

“There’s n-no need for all that.” Darnell quickly put his hands up in defense and uttered a few sorry’s before pushing past the bustle of the noisy crowd. Erik sort of wished he’d gotten to punch the man, but humiliating him in front of a bunch of rich people was enough to sate that need.

Erik regarded T’Challa, giving him a meek look. “Sorry about that, kitten. I didn’t mean to make a big scen--” Before Erik could finish, T’Challa kissed him… _in front of everyone._ It lasted about two seconds but Erik still felt the need to catch his breath after T’Challa pulled back. 

_So much for keeping it a secret._

“T’Challa,” T’Chaka said sharply. “In my office, now.” He turned around, leaving T’Challa to leer at Erik. 

“Wait for me at my place,” T’Challa whispered in Erik’s ear, handing him his only pair of apartment keys. He left Erik with one last lingering stare before following after his father.

Erik ignored the crowd as they slowly dispersed, taking his time to eye the keys in his hands with disbelief.

“There’s no doubt about it now,” Nakia spoke up with a knowing smirk. “You’re definitely getting some tonight.”

***

Every time he went to T’Challa’s place, he found it equally as nice as his parent’s mansion. It was smaller, as most condos were but no less lavish. At least he didn’t overdo it with the decorations, Erik thought as he looked around the living room. He skimmed through the bookshelf, flipping through a couple of books here and there before moving to the next one. When he grew bored of that, he settled on the long gray couch, planning to watch some Tv to pass the time. After a while of figuring out which remote to use he turned on whatever movie he could find and relaxed against the soft cushion.

Erik drifted off at some point and he didn’t know for how long but when he came to, it was because of the pair of hands sliding down his chest. Erik let his head lay flat on the back of the couch, looking at T’Challa upside down. 

“Good morning.” T’Challa leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

Erik snorted looking at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was 1 a.m. “You took too damn long.”

“Sorry.” T’Challa removed his suit jacket and walked around the couch then sat astride Erik’s thighs. “My baba talks a lot.” He leaned down to kiss Erik again, not seeming too privy on discussing what happened between him and his dad.

“What’d he say?” Erik attempted to speak against T’Challa’s persistent lips. 

“Let’s talk about that later.” T’Challa hummed against his mouth, sluggishly grounding his hips against Erik. T’Challa made a sound akin to moan, trying to maintain his insistent kiss but Erik was already pulling back.

“Why not now?” He taunted.

T’Challa’s eyes bore into his, displaying a matter of lustful urgency. “You know why.”

Erik smirked and grabbed a hold of T’Challa’s hips, pulling him flush against his chest. “Do I?” T’Challa huffed, pouting at Erik’s evasiveness. “Maybe if you show me what you mean, then I might understand.”

T’Challa raised a brow. “Show you?” He removed Erik’s hands from his hips; subsequently, descending until his knees hit the floor. Erik sat completely still, letting T’Challa unbuckle the belt on his pants and yank them down with his underwear in tow. Erik relaxed against the couch, his look cognizant of T’Challa’s unyielding stare.

“Like what you see?” 

T’Challa let out a breathy laugh, eyes rolling at his shamelessness. In spite of that, T’Challa couldn’t lie, he did like what he saw. He regarded Eriks half-hard cock with little to no wariness. Instead, he took his time to stroke it to full hardness, loving how dense Erik's breath became as he did.

T'Challa stuck out his tongue, sensually giving the length a long lap. He felt Erik jerk under as he repeated the action. He pumped the base in time with his small licks, enjoying the taste of the tiny beads of precum. He could feel Erik's thighs twitching under his palm, seeming to want to thrust into T'Challa's hot mouth. T'Challa knew he was teasing and smiled, despite seeing Erik furrow his brows in frustration. 

“T’Challa--” Erik murmured, grabbing the top of T’Challa’s head.

T’Challa licked his lips in response before putting the whole of Erik’s cock into his mouth. 

“Fuck!” Erik grunted, tightening his fingers in T’Challa’s hair. His mouth was so damn… _hot_. It was suffocating. Erik had to hold himself back when T’Challa started to move, groaning around his dick. It was a reciprocating movement, expertly pending at the base before he moved back, sliding his tongue along the underside of his cock. Erik struggled to keep still, feeling T’Challa’s heated tongue wrap tightly all around-- 

“Shit--!” Erik heaved softly, finally surrendering to the pleasure and thrust in time with T’Challa’s mouth. He hissed, biting his lip, letting the slurping sounds grace his ears. Erik could have sworn that it wasn’t just his feelings for T’Challa that made everything feel better, he swore it wasn’t, because- _God_! He’s never gotten head this good before. It was almost maddening and he didn’t want to come just yet. But Erik retrieved that thought quickly and attempted to thrust faster until he was abruptly cut off. 

Erik huffed and looked down at T’Challa wiping the corners of his mouth as he stood up. “Fuck, kitten, why’d you stop?”

“Don’t come just yet.” He told him while unbuttoning his shirt before flinging it on the ground and walking away from Erik in the process. 

Erik’s eye’s lingered on T’Challa’s low riding pants before he turned around, beckoning Erik to follow him into the bedroom. “Damn,” Erik muttered, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation as he speedily stepped out of his pants and followed after him. “You know you sexy as fuck, right?” Erik observed as he entered the bedroom.

T’Challa smiled sensually, hooking a thumb in his pants, pulling them down bit by bit. “I know.” He mocked Erik’s famous line as his pants and underwear fell to the ground. 

They never made it to the bed. After T’Challa went to his dresser drawer to retrieve the lube, showing off his fat ass, Erik’s body moved on its own accord. Everything was a blur after that. Applying the lube and fingering T’Challa’s tight ass while he was leaned over the dresser, was nothing but a moment forgotten in time because not long after, Erik was fucking T’Challa against the wall.

“Aaah!” T’Challa’s back tolerated the wall behind him with his arms perched on Erik’s shoulders. 

“Damn, you feel so good.” 

T’Challa listened to the deep voice with unburdened lust. He tilted his head back just enough to feel the force of Erik’s lip’s suck on his skin. He gasped harshly, losing himself whenever his short hair caught onto the grooves of the wall behind him, reminding him to lean forward as he was curtly thrust into. 

He cursed at himself for picking the sleek gray wooden plank as a design choice. He should have just stuck with the basic paneling so that this would be easier, despite not knowing Erik was bold enough to fuck him like this the very first time they had sex. T’Challa didn’t mind though. He was so turned on right now, nothing else mattered except for their lovemaking. 

“Nnn, so good--!” T’Challa moaned loudly and was thankful that this room was inexplicably soundproof. His hole burned against Erik’s constant up thrust, throwing him for a loop when he realized he’d come once already. It was just that Erik’s cock was so thick, hitting all the right places and it made him go crazy and _oh_ \-- “Right there!” T’Challa, in spite of his previous complaint, let his head fall back against the wall, lips parting as he let out a loud sound.

“Shit-- keep moaning, baby.” Erik continued to spew curses after T’Challa clamped down around him, tightening his grip on his shoulders. T’Challa moans louder, allowing Erik’s roaming kisses on his lips to drown him out, but not entirely. T’Challa had never felt this good in his entire life. No one’s ever fucked him this rough. No other partner could compare to this young- _this man_.

T’Challa was suddenly being lifted higher this time as Erik carried him to the bed, letting his back hit the soft covers. Erik pinned him down, canted his hips then roughly pounded into him.

“Fuck- so damn tight.” Erik panted above him, taking what he wanted from T’Challa as his right to excite and impress him. T’Challa found it endearing and almost cute but he knew that there wasn’t a need for Erik to do so. He never doubted Erik was bad at sex, no matter what age he was. With a body like that, he’s undoubtedly had a lot of experience. Now it was all T’Challa’s. No one else can touch him after this-- _T’Challa would make sure of this._ Even in the throes of pleasure, body moving to and fro due to Erik’s merciless thrust, T’Challa made that promise.

“I-I’m about to--” T’Challa was silenced by Erik’s moist lips, speeding up his thrust while jerking him off at the same time. _Yes, yes!_ T’Challa mentally chanted as he got closer to the edge, back arching off the bed just as he came onto his stomach. He shivered, mouth agape, head pushing against the bed as Erik continued fucking him into the mattress. 

“Second time already, kitten?” Erik nipped his neck and T’Challa could feel him smirk. “I’m that good, huh?” 

In response, T’Challa hooked his legs around Erik’s back, tilting his hips to move against him. Erik exhaled sharply, dropping to his elbows next to T’Challa’s head as if he suddenly lost the resilience to stay upright. “Harder,” T’Challa said softly, holding Erik’s head on his right shoulder as he kissed his cheek. “Make me hard again- go deeper.” T’Challa licked the crown of his ear, “That’s it, mm-- just like that.” He knew how it got to Erik when he did things like this; when he borderline coddled him, treating him like a novice. His reaction was just as expected as he thwarted all T’Challa’s notions and fucked him harder just like he wanted. Erik wouldn’t last long though with T’Challa clamping around him, whispering filthy words into his ear. And before long, T’Challa felt Erik’s hips stutter before he was coming with a breathless groan.

T’Challa hummed, drowning in the warmth of Erik’s heavy body. They stayed like that for some time, the desiring gradually dwindling, leaving them in a listless state. 

“Mm, you did good,” T’Challa mused after having directed Erik at the end. After hearing that, Erik sighed next to T’Challa’s ear.

“Don’t play like that.” Erik sat up on his elbows, giving T’Challa a querying look before laughing softly and laying his head back down on his shoulder. “I know I did.”

“See? I knew you’d appreciate the compliment.” T’Challa gasped as he felt Erik lightly bite into his shoulder with an unruly attempt to silence him.“Shut up,” Erik laughed, sitting up again. 

T’Challa shrugged as much as he could in this position. “I’m just saying.”

“Kitten, I swear if you keep talking--”

“Okay, okay, I’m done.” T’Challa tilted his head and pecked Erik on the lips.

With a simpering smirk, Erik shook his head, returning a quick kiss. “So… You gonna tell me what your dad said?”

T’Challa scoffed, not believing his ears. “Really, Erik? Right now?”

“The sooner the better.” Erik sat up and pulled out then flopped down next to T’Challa.

“You're unbelievable.” T’Challa laughed. “If you really must know he said that if you’re anything like Darnell, he’ll kill you.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, and he also mentioned something about the renovations for his building being finished by the end of next month.” T’Challa sat up and stretched out, before looking down at Erik. “My mama says hi by the way,” He added just for the fun of it.

“So… they don’t have a problem with us dating?”

“Surprisingly... no. I almost feel bad for doubting them.”

“No, you don’t.” 

T’Challa chuckled. “You’re right, I don’t. But even if they did disapprove, they can’t do anything about it. I mean, I am a grown man.” T’Challa felt sort of stupid for worrying about such a thing but he really wanted his parent’s approval. It was more of a respect thing than anything else.

Erik carded a hand through his locks with a wide grin. “I was worried for nothing then.”

“We both were.” T’Challa leaned down and kissed the smiling man. “Let’s talk about the rest later.” T’Challa stood up. “I want to take a shower.” 

Erik raised a brow and quickly stood up, eyeing T’Challa from the back. He soon closed in behind T’Challa, wrapping his arms around the lithe man. “What’s the point? I’m gonna end up fucking you again anyway.” Erik squeezed T’Challa’s ass, making him jump before his hands were slapped away.

“No, you’re not.” T’Challa moved out of reach and toward the bathroom door.

Erik idly pursued, with a cocky smirk. “Wanna bet?”

“No more bets.” T’Challa backed away.

“Just one more bet.”

“No more- Stop!” T’Challa laughed, trying to wiggle out of the man’s arms once again only to be silenced by his lips. They moved backward until T’Challa’s foot hit something vaguely familiar. He pulled away and looked down at Erik’s suit jacket which seemed to have been flung across the room. Something golden caught his eye.

“Erik what is--” He bent down and grabbed it. “Is this my Rolex!?”

“Uh…” Erik scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. “Sorry?” 

“Erik…” T’Challa pronounced, looking far more irritated than Erik expected. “I’m going to kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! You'll never see Darnell again either 😂😂


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up-- Xhosa dialogue is in italics.
> 
> You'll see what I mean when you get there lol, Enjoy!

Erik slowly opened his eyes, groaning when the sunlight cut across his hazy vision. He closed them again, slowly peeking through his lashes the next time around so his eyes could adjust. He’d been delaying it for some time now, but he really needed to get some blackout curtains in his room like T’Challa has in his own room. Actually, Erik wished they were at T’Challa’s house instead of his, at the moment, because this twin-size bed of his wasn't cutting it. Especially considering how hard they usually went at it. They only ended up here because T’Challa had insisted on tutoring him some more which ended up leading to something else entirely-- like it had been for a while now. Fortunately, that worked for both of them.

As the thought slipped from his mind, Erik felt something shift next to his leg, prompting him to look down at T’Challa quietly sleeping on his chest. Erik had woken up to the sight more often than he thought he ever would but knew he’d never get tired of it. _How could he? This is what he’s wanted ever since he was a kid._

A sudden thump sounded outside his room and Erik soon recognized it to be the front door. He frowned, thinking that someone had broken into the house until he heard the faint reverberation of his mom's voice, who seemed to be talking on the phone. _She was back already!? She wasn’t supposed to be back until next week!_ It was at this point that Erik remembered how he completely ignored his mom’s text yesterday because he’d been distracted by something else that was more _appealing_. That was a really bad call on his end.

“Kitten.” He whispered, gently shaking the man’s shoulder.

“Mm…” T’Challa hummed, not moving an inch. As per usual, he didn’t do well with anything that had to do with waking up. Erik didn’t know it was _this_ bad when he was a kid, but after sleeping with him and always being the first to wake up, he learned that it was hard to get T’Challa out of bed.

“Shit.” Erik cursed as he swiftly removed himself from T’Challa’s hold and stepped onto the cool wooden floor. “Come on, wake up,” Erik said a little louder after he found his underwear and haphazardly put it on. 

“Mm… not now…” T’Challa’s mumbled, then covered his head with the comforter.

“Kitten, come on. You gotta wake up.” Erik quickly pulled out a shirt and sweatpants from his dresser drawer, making sure to move lightly across the floor. It’s not like it mattered how quiet he was anyway because his mom knew he never slept this late. She probably assumed he was wearing headphones and didn’t hear her come in.

“...s’too early,” T’Challa grumbled, not knowing that it was almost two in the afternoon.

“Come on.” Erik finished getting dressed then pulled the blanket back from T’Challa’s head, making him groan loudly.

“Erik, stop,” T’Challa muttered, finally opening his eyes. 

“My mom’s here.” Erik declared simply, watching T’Challa’s eyes slowly widen before he yanked the rest of the blankets off and stood up.

“What do you mean she’s here!?” He exclaimed, only quieting down when Erik shushed him. 

“I just heard her walk in.”

“I thought she was coming back next week?” T’Challa complained, frantically grabbing his clothes from the floor and putting them on.

“I did too.”

“Dammit,” T’Challa replied, knowing that Erik was at the risk of getting in trouble.

Without a doubt, Erik’s mom knew about their relationship but that wasn’t the problem. Erik told T’Challa early on that his mom didn’t want them fucking in her house. She made it explicitly clear to Erik, after he entered high school, that there was to be no babies and no sex in her house. It didn’t matter if he was twenty years old now, she still expected him to follow her the rules-- which Erik did dutifully-- unless he wanted to face her wrath.

“Let’s pretend like we were studying,” Erik said as he looked around for T’Challa’s bag. “Where’s your shit?”

“Um… it’s downstairs.”

“You serious!?”

T’Challa nodded guiltily, giving him a half shrug. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay but we--”

“Erik!” Erik went still when his mom called his name from right outside his door. She attempted to open the door only to find that it was locked. “You in there?”

A chill ran through Erik’s spine before he answered. “Uh, yeah. I was getting dressed, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Silence followed after his response but it didn’t last for long. “I’ll be waiting for you and T’Challa downstairs, okay?”

“...O-okay.” Erik stuttered, looking toward T’Challa who mimicked his stunned expression.

.

.

.

They came downstairs after doing the basic morning routine, immediately finding out how she knew T’Challa was here. His bag, that was previously left on the floor beside the couch, now sat on the kitchen bar for all to see. They kept their heads low, T’Challa feeling more like a child than he had in years. Guess these were the “perks” that came with dating someone younger him-- specifically one who still lived with his mom. T’Challa would bear with it, only if it was for Erik though.

Erik’s mother leaned against the counter with a look that exposed her apparent displeasure for the current situation.

“Good _morning_ , you two.” She announced, putting emphasis on their late awakening as her eyes flickered between the two.

T’Challa debated on either saying good morning or good afternoon, not wanting to seem like he was being sarcastic. In the end, he decided that saying nothing at all would be the best course of action. Thankfully, she proceeded to talk soon after and didn’t waste any time greeting her son.

“Well, aren’t you gonna come and give me a hug?” She stared pointedly at Erik. “I haven’t seen you in almost three months.”

“Hey, ma.” Erik chuckled, seeming to relax a bit as he walked over to give his mom a hug. “You know I missed you.”

“Mhm.” She hugged him back. “I missed you too, baby.” T’Challa let himself smile at their reunion, soon seeing her surveying him over Erik’s shoulder.

“You too, T’Challa.” She declared, opening up her left arm.

T’Challa gripped the hem of his shirt, bashfully, rejecting her offer. “Oh, no I’m--”

“Don’t be shy, come here.”

T’Challa gave a meek laugh as he languidly swept across the kitchen and into the arms of Erik’s mom. The hug was short but it established a personal sort of acceptance to him and Erik’s growing relationship.

“It’s nice to see both of you.”

“It’s nice to see you again too, Ms. Stevens,” T’Challa said as he stepped back, giving her some space to walk around them and toward the living room. T’Challa then glanced at Erik, seeing him shrug before he followed after her.

“How was your trip, mom?”

“It was alright I guess,” She said as she dug through her purse. “Same as every other trip-- well, except for that one trip to Paris. Now _that_ one was quite eventful.”

“Yeah, it must have been because if I remember correctly, you didn’t bring me back any souvenirs.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “Oh, please. I got you a car as a graduation gift so that was your souvenir that year.”

T’Challa laughed, watching as she pulled out what looked to be her car keys and continued talking.

“Well, actually there was one thing during this trip that caught me by surprise while I was away-- besides you two dating of course.” 

Both Erik and T’Challa looked to the side, simpering coyly at Ms. Steven’s statement.

“Well, what was it?” Erik asked just to change the topic.

“I don’t think I should tell you just yet.” 

“Mom, come on, tell me. What happened?”

“Well…” She chuckled softly, gaze wandering around the living room, before stopping back on Erik. “I... met someone.”

“...Come again?” Erik questioned.

“It’s like I said... I met someone.” She restated as a fact.

“Congratulations, Ms. Stevens,” T’Challa said before long, noticing Erik’s stiffness.

“Thanks, T’Challa.” She handed Erik her car keys. “And go and get my luggage from the car, please.”

“Mom, wait, I wanna talk about thi--”

“We’ll talk later, baby.” She patted him on the shoulder, nudging him toward the garage door. “Go on.” 

Erik huffed before reluctantly walking out the door, leaving T’Challa and his mom alone.

“Come and sit, T’Challa.” She sat down on the couch, tapping the cushion next to her. T’Challa took a deep breath and sat down, hoping he wasn’t about to be reprimanded on Erik’s behalf. As luck would have it, it seemed like Ms. Stevens just wanted to talk.

“Don’t worry about Erik, he’ll probably be out there sulking for a while.” She dismissed him as a second thought, focusing all her attention on T’Challa. “Let’s talk, just you and me.”

T’Challa smiled and nodded, growing a little nervous about being alone with Ms. Stevens for the first time in years.

“You know, you’re never there when I get the chance to visit your mom.” She started and smiled sweetly. “I heard you have your own place and everything now. Not that I’m surprised.”

T’Challa laughed softly. “Yes, well I work a lot.”

“You and me both.”

“I didn’t know you were coming back today. Erik didn’t tell me.”

“That boy.” She rolled her eyes. “I texted him last night, saying that I was coming home today.” She shook her head. “He gets a new cell phone then he doesn’t even answer my text? I don’t know where his head has been these days.”

 _Probably my fault._ T’Challa thought, keeping a smile plastered on his face. “Me neither.”

She sighed. “I have to be honest with you and say that I wasn’t really sure about you and Erik dating.”

T’Challa looked down at the coffee table. “I sort of suspected that...”

“Oh, but don’t get me wrong, T’Challa. I’d rather it be you than anyone else. I know Ramonda has raised you right but you know I’m just… worried as a parent.”

T’Challa slowly nodded, folding his hands in his lap as he looked into her eyes. “I completely understand, Ms. Stevens.” _He truly did. If his child suddenly started dating their old babysitter, T’Challa would feel the same way._ “Trust me, it was strange to me at first but… Erik is…” Heat rose to his cheeks as he tried to explain himself but she seemed to understand even if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay, baby. I get it.” She suspiciously looked over at the garage door before turning back around and lifting up her left hand. T’Challa caught sight of a ring on her wedding finger and gawked at it. 

“We're in the same boat but don’t worry, I’m not moving _that_ fast.” She quickly reassured him. “We actually met two years ago. Don’t tell Erik just yet though. I don’t want him freaking out.”

“I-I won’t Ms. Steven’s. You can trust me.”

She smiled happily. “I knew I could.”

If Erik was feeling some type of way now, T’Challa couldn’t even imagine how’d he be once he saw this. Erik and his mom were extremely close and T’Challa knew he was protective of her as well. 

_This was not going to be good when finds out._

“Anyway,” She continued. “I hope telling you this secret makes up for us lying to you about this whole summer ordeal.”

"Lying?” T’Challa frowned. “What are you talking about?"

"Erik hasn't told you yet?"

T’Challa grew even more confused and a little worried. "Told me what?"

"That boy..." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Erik, he… he already knows Xhosa."

This time it was T’Challa that went stiff as he unconsciously imitated Erik’s words. 

"...Come again?”

***

“You two are late,” Nakia announced when T’Challa and Erik were close enough to the table. 

“I told you we should’ve met up at two-o'clock instead of ten,” T’Challa complained while bending down to hug Nakia. “You know this is too early for me.”

Nakia looked to Erik for a further explanation and he only shrugged in response. “Trust me, I tried to get him up.”

Nakia sighed as she watched the two of them sit down across from her. She had invited everybody out to eat breakfast and as usual, Okoye and W’Kabi were early while T’Challa was _extra_ late. (Forty-five minutes late, to be exact). And somehow she ended up being polite and waited for them to get here before she ordered some food. She really was _too_ nice for her own good.

“This is getting ridiculous, T’Challa,” Nakia said as she tried to catch the waiter's attention. “I still don’t know how you make it on time for work.”

“I’m not sure about that either.” T’Challa smiled timidly. “Maybe it’s because my Baba is sort of scary when he's mad.”

“That’s very true.” W’Kabi agreed just as the waiter came over and took all of their orders. “I remember when we got caught sneaking out of the house and he found T’Challa and M’Baku in the--”

“No! No, not that.” T’Challa shook his head, begging for W’Kabi to stop talking. Thankfully he stopped at the perfect time but that only seemed to make Erik all the more curious.

“Who’s M’Baku?” Erik asked.

“Just an old friend from Wakanda.” T’Challa quickly replied before his friends could. “We haven’t seen him in about… how many years?”

“I think it’s been two years,” Okoye confirmed, though she still seemed to be pondering.

“Yes, I think that's right.” T’Challa nodded in agreement, turning to Erik to explain further who M’Baku was. “We were all childhood friends but we barely keep in contact.”

“Ah, okay I got you.” Erik nodded in understanding, pulling out his phone when he felt it vibrate in his pocket.

“ _That’s a lie,_ ” Nakia said in Xhosa. “ _Wasn’t it you who told me last week that you started texting him again?_ ” She said to T’Challa who was evidently glancing Erik’s way.

“ _He hates texting._ ” Okoye jumped in, also speaking in her native tongue.

“ _I know,_ ” Nakia agreed. “ _Which is why I’m surprised. Maybe he wants to visit T’Challa; maybe even get back together with him._ ” 

_“Shouldn’t we be watching what we say around him?”_ She lightly gestured toward Erik who was steadily paying attention to his phone.

T’Challa waved her off. _“No, that’s okay, he doesn’t know that much.”_

_“So would you get back together with him, I mean he was your first, wasn’t he?”_

T’Challa felt Erik go rigid next to him before he answered with a shrug. _“No, I have a boyfriend now.”_

 _“Oh, please T’Challa, I know you.”_ Nakia retorted and leaned her elbows on the table, giving her friend an inquisitive stare. _“Every time you visit Wakanda, you’re always somehow with him. And don’t think I didn’t see him coming out of your room last time. I bet you can’t wait to see him again, right?”_

 _“Nakia… it’s not like that…but...”_ T’Challa bit his lip with a little smirk. _“I guess… it would be nice to see him again.”_

 _“In his bed too?”_ Okoye asked frankly.

_“...Mm… that sounds nice as well.”_

“The fuck!?” Erik looked up with a scowl, pointing a glare right at T’Challa. 

Everyone at the table looked over at Erik, for they’d clearly been surprised at his outburst.

“You better be fucking with me right now, T’Challa.”

“Erik,” T’Challa placed a hand on his chest, his expression drooping into worry. “What’s wrong? Why are you mad all of a sudden?”

“You planning to cheat on me?” Erik seethed, feeling the need to put some space between them and go outside and get some air.

“Erik, what are you talking about?” T’Challa questioned, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His eyes darted towards the rest of T’Challa’s friends seeing them wearing the same overly bewildered reaction.

“Erik,” T’Challa exasperated. “Truly, I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.”

“With M’Baku? You going to see him and shit?”

“Wait, he understood _all_ of that?” Nakia gasped. “I thought you said he was a beginner?”

“That’s what I thought too,” T’Challa spoke a little more dramatically than Erik expected. “Erik, have you been studying behind my back?”

Erik paused at that, his reply dying on his tongue as he came to the realization of what he’d just done. “Uh... nah,” He smiled sheepishly, backing off a bit. “I- I barely understood what y’all were saying. I just recognized a few words here and there…”

“A lot of those words I didn’t teach you yet. You must have studied quite a bit when I wasn’t there.” T’Challa tilted his head, gradually removing the dramatics from his voice. “Or maybe, you lied to me and made me waste my whole summer by teaching you Xhosa, even though you already knew it?”

“Enjoy your food, everyone.” The waiter announced as she set up the large food tray and started passing out plates.

“I think we’ll need three to-go boxes already, please,” Nakia said to the waiter after the atmosphere was ruined. The waiter nodded while Nakia side-eyed Erik and T’Challa, not sure how things were going to turn out. 

When T’Challa called all three of them the other night and told them that Erik already knew Xhosa, it was (of course) Nakia’s idea to trick him. She hadn’t really expected T’Challa to agree but when he did, she thought of a plan that was sure to rile up the immature college boy. And like she predicted, he did just that. She felt the need to high five both Okoye and W’Kabi but thought it was better to wait until they were outside of the restaurant.

“Kitten,” Erik started off, not seeming to care that T’Challa’s friends were still there. “I’m sorry, okay? I was going to tell you eventually.”

“Mm… really?” T’Challa picked at his food, not sparing Erik a glance.

“I promise, I was going to tell you at the end of the summer.”

“So what was the bet for then?” T’Challa finally glanced at Erik. 

“You see, uh... there was no actual bet.” Erik easily admitted. “I was just going to tell you that I already knew Xhosa.”

Nakia snorted into her glass of soda, receiving a slap on the shoulder from Okoye to shut her up. T’Challa gave her a look as well and Nakia placed a hand over her mouth, restlessly waiting for that waiter to come back with the to-go boxes, otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to hold back her laughter.

“I’m really sorry.” Erik adamantly repeated. “I promise I was going to tell you, kitten. I’m being for real.”

T’Challa sighed and rolled his eyes, already growing tired of keeping up his little act. “Alright, alright, I’m not that mad anyway.”

“You’re not?” Erik raised a brow. “You’re for real not mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad... I just thought it’d be fun to tease you and embarrass you in front of my friends. It’s what you deserve for wasting my summer.”

T’Challa admitted to himself that he could have handled this situation better but Nakia had been pretty convincing when they talked on the phone. Plus, seeing Erik lose all his confidence and put on a sulky face was a reward in itself.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Erik declared.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Uh… I can-”

“How about you tell us why you call T’Challa kitten?” Nakia cut Erik off, causing Okoye and W’Kabi to shake their heads with disapproval.

“That wasn’t really where I was going with that...”

“It’s fine, I want to hear as well.” T’Challa urged him.

“Well, that's…” Erik grinned timidly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t really know if I should say it here.”

“You can say it,” T’Challa assured him. “I won’t be embarrassed, these _are_ my best friends.”

“I mean… it’s just the way y’know…” Erik stuttered and averted his eyes. “The way you... you eat ice cream.”

“Wha-” T’Challa started before Nakia interrupted him.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Nakia cheered. “I knew that’s why he called you that.”

“Nakia.” T’Challa snapped. “You’re being too loud and **no** ! I _do not_ eat ice cream like that, right?” He looked towards his silent friends.

Both Okoye and W’Kabi looked off to the side, blatantly avoiding T’Challa’s stare, causing him to scoff and fold his arms. 

_Were they being serious? He didn’t eat ice cream like that, or did he? And is that why Erik always used to ask him for ice cream when he was young!? The more things T’Challa remembered, the more things started to add up and he wondered how exactly he didn’t realize Erik had a crush on him all those years ago. The signs were all there and yet..._

T’Challa huffed and slumped against the seat. “Remind me to never eat ice cream around any of you ever again.”

“I wouldn't count on that,” Nakia said with a grin, making T’Challa all the more irritated. He had to remind himself why he even went along with her antics in the first place. Then he remembered that he was the one to befriend her when they first met.

Bast, he really needed to rethink who he would bring around Erik from now on, or things like this would continue to happen. Still, he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t entertaining and that he enjoyed it. And he should enjoy it while it lasted because Erik… well, he wasn’t going to be in town for long… he was going back to MIT soon. I guess this was another “perk” of dating someone younger than him. Erik was still in college and T’Challa knew from experience that long-distance relationships were never a good thing.

_Hopefully, it would be different with Erik._


End file.
